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#but i may be making eve suffer
sealrock · 5 months
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Cactuar - What’s the fastest way to get you angry? When was the last time it happened? (for who you want!)
ask meme
answering for achille
24. Cactuar - What’s the fastest way to get you angry? When was the last time it happened?
most of my ocs have a rage button when it comes to their hang-ups or flaws if people intentionally bat at the wasp's nest, and they all react in various ways. but achille's rage button deals with his mixed heritage, his mother, and himself. he's the quickest one to anger, or at times, black out in extreme rage
he doesn't know his mother tauvane very well, as much as he tries to connect with her now despite of her unforgiveable crimes, and he doesn't know why she abandoned him, his adoptive father chiron never divulged the details of how he found him. don't even mention his birth father, achille has no idea who he could possibly be. achille grew up in the north shroud for the first half of his life and was subjected to bullying, discrimination, and ostracization from other children and adults alike because of his ears and his familial ties to chiron, an ala mhigan. he internalized what the adults would whisper about him, about the whore who was too ashamed to raise a child like him
he wanted to think that his mother gave him up out of love, but after she attacked him and almost ripped his eye out as a teenager, achille has had conflicted feelings about her ever since. so his childhood wasn't as great as achille led others to believe, but he doesn't like to talk about it. talking about it gets him riled up, and talking about it reminds him of how he can't truly fit in anywhere
achille has had a lot of moments where he couldn't hold back his rage he botled up inside, but the last time achille got truly enraged was more recent: when he finally met his maternal family in ishgard. he found out he had more family beyond chiron and his mother, and he was so excited to finally meet them and get to know them. but he was wrong
in the one time he visited ishgard, he'll never go back because tauvane's family treated him far worse than the childhood bullies he ran away from. to be rejected outright and lose the connections he could've made, the family he always dreamed of, tore him up on the inside. it got to the point where achille attacked his cousin apolloix for the degrading and racist treatment he received throughout the visit
achille doesn't like it when it gets angry—once he passes that point of no return, the jovial and cheeky achille his friends know and love is replaced with a stranger with bloodied fists, bared teeth and wild fury in his eyes
ty for the ask @oneiroy!
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xcziel · 1 year
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#this year is just the weirdest christmas vibe i've ever had goning on#i have all the stuff for a hallmark-y christmas: it's cold for once on christmas eve! i have a kitchen and a bare tree#but family is overworked and stressed and and i'm sick and worn out from retail so no visiting or sharing baking#so no reason to bake or decorate - even though i fully have the ability! the things are sitting out i am looking at them#but i just want to bury in the bed and read sad or schmoopy fanfic instead#i just can't get in the mood and it's so disappointing bc i remember loving having like#christmas music on and singing along and baking and i never could do much in my apartment bc of it being so small etc#and now i have a full big kitchen counter and could have the tree i always wanted and play christmas cartoons loudly#and it wouldn't bother anyone and there's lights up in the neighborhood i could go see but#i'm just so exhausted and generally discouraged and it's the MOST first world of situations but i may never get#another chance to have a christmas like this and who knows where/how i'll be next year ...#maybe it's really just the not being able to bake - like i don't even really feel like it but i still get sudden impulses#and it's like nope no family to cart tins of cookies to - can't take them or cake to work bc don't want to risk people getting sick#tempted to just force myself into christmas spirit but then the apathy just rolls back over me#i'm so worried about my bil and sister who are stressed bc if medication shortages#and all y'all who are suffering power outages and winter weather onslaught and stressful weekend plan changes#and seasonal overwork and all that entails i'm worried for you also and wishing for everything to be better and go well for you#it just feels like everyone's having an anxious exhsusting holiday season this year and i would like so much better for us#than just 'making it through'#ugh now i'm making myself sappy and teary again#whatever - anybody bothering to read this just know i wish you warmth happiness and joy however they may come to you#hug your loved ones if you can love on your pets eat something for a treat and look at some pretty lights this evening#i maybe am gonna light some candles and put on music and see if my sis wants to call or facetime later#but first my rx are finally filled so i have to go fetch them#happy holidays whoever reads this - mutuals i love you and wish you the best may your evening be merry and bright#or at least warm!
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caesium-55 · 3 months
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—seven days. [ ii ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
author's note: not beta-read. not edited. here's part 2 folks. part 3 is on the works now. did i write this fic instead of studying for my important quiz tomorrow? yes, yes i did. pls pray for my score.
masterlist.
For Christmas in 2019, Max has gotten you an apartment near his in Monaco. It is a loft apartment good for one on the 8th floor, a building away from where Daniel and Max lived. Originally, he wants to get you the unit a floor below his. You decline quickly, insisting that you are very fine with rooming with Julia and Kendall, who are both members of the Red Bull PR team whom you have gotten close with since your first year working with Red Bull. Max may have beef with the PR team for making him do a lot of embarrassing shit for the views but you're besties with most of them and actually thank them for making Max suffer through PR stuff because you cannot afford therapy and watching Max suffer through PR-related activities is a good form of free therapy. Also, Monaco apartments are fucking expensive. Red Bull might be paying you well but not well enough to afford an apartment in a country as expensive as Monaco.
“I want you close,” he tells you. If you did not know any better, you'd have butterflies fluttering in your intestines right about that moment. Sometimes, Max utter the most heart-fluttering of nonsense without meaning to. It causes your heart to stutter more times than you would like to admit.
“Well, I don't want you close.”
Max will never ever win an argument with you. He knows that. You know that. The best he can do is come to a compromise, a compromise that is usually tailored to suit whatever you want.
So you got that small loft apartment a building away, good for one person only. It's easy to clean and it's cheap, Max already said that, which makes you happy because you can set a payment plan for that. An apartment as a Christmas gift is already too much, borderline giving you a heart attack already. Rich people spending their money give you, a person of the middle class folks, heart attacks. Why can't Max be normal and give you a normal gift? A bracelet? A bag? You’ll even accept it if he gave you a slice of cheesecake. Not even your parents can buy you an apartment.
It has only been three years since the keys are passed on to your ownership and people say three years is enough time for a person to make a place home. But your apartment doesn't even feel like home, only a place you’ll sleep in if you happen to be in Monaco for the evening.
Home is that humble, two-storey house painted in red and yellow in Lynnwood Avenue, Vista Del Pueblo, Austin, a total picture of a picket fence dream. Home is Abuelo's old farmhouse in El Paso where you spent your childhood riding horses and driving ATVs across the dusty dry earth. Home is the retro milkshake place owned by the sweet old couple that has been in the neighborhood longer than your entire existence. Home is the tree-lined streets where you walked the family senior dog, Niko. Home is the Austin Fire House, your Dad’s workplace that you visited a handful of times back when you were a child to deliver cookies that your Abuela baked so your Dad could share it with his co-workers. Home is your mom’s clinic in the middle of downtown, always smelling like eugenol, disinfectant, formaldehyde, and her perfume. Home is not glitz and gold and glamor and cash cash cash. Home is not seeing wealthy people left and right. Home is not Monaco.
And it is not like you stayed long in your place either. You're always off traveling around the world with the Red Bull team and accompanying Max wherever he needs your presence. You don't even spend your breaks in that apartment because you immediately fly home to your family once a break is graciously given to you before flying off again to watch Max collect trophy after trophy.
Six days from now, you're going to be flying off to Texas. That means you have six days—less than six days actually—to pack all your crayons and go. Of course you're going to pack up the day before you leave. Doing shit last minute makes your life exciting, and it's not like you had a lot of shit to pack anyway. All your belongings can be tucked into a total of three suitcases. Three years worth of belongings in three suitcases.
you: you doin good there?
Max has been holing himself up in his penthouse since your arrival from Abu Dhabi, probably dealing with his breakup with Kelly. A shame, really. You thought the two looked good together. (Do they really? the asshole part of your brain thinks.)
And P. Thank God for that child’s existence. You hate children but P is an exception. P brings the best out of Max. Max has gotten the chance to act as the father he never had. It's heartwarming, to be honest.
him: not really no
him: can you bring me coffee
you: on it champ
Fifteen minutes later, you’re knocking on the gigantic double doors of his penthouse, a tall styro cup of espresso from that cute café two streets down and a slice of blueberry cheesecake because you’re thoughtful enough to buy him his favorite cake. You experienced a breakup before. A cake and an icecream work wonders when it came to healing broken hearts.
“You're fast,” he immediately says after opening the door. You kind of expect that he’d look worse, snotty and messy and looking like he ran from hell and back. But no, he looks……fine? His sweater and shorts look absolutely neat and comfortable and dry of snot. His hair is a little fluffy from lying on his bed but not too messy. He doesn't even look like he was crying. No red-rimmed eyes. No red nose.
You fake gasp, putting a hand on your chest for additional dramatic effect, “The fastest racer in F1 callin’ me fast. Truly honored.”
A smile plays on his lips, sidestepping and beckoning you in.
You frequently come by Max’s home, for work purposes of course, but you still cannot help but be amazed by the enormity of it every time you enter. Max’s penthouse is twenty times bigger than the apartment you currently live in. One man and a big house—it must be very lonely now that P and Kelly are no longer around. Now, you’re even more worried about what will happen the moment you go back to Texas.
Oh… You still haven't told him yet.
“Coffee,” you hand him the warm styro cup to which he accepts gratefully. He utters his thanks, taking a whiff before sipping, letting out a pleasured moan.
You make your way to his gigantic kitchen, navigating your way through his cabinets in search of a plate and a fork. You slide the cheesecake on the plate towards Max, who followed you to the kitchen and sat on the empty stool in the kitchen counter.
“Thank you,” he says, picking up the fork and taking a bite. He glances at your feet, eyes trained on your YSL. The obnoxious sound of the heels clicking against the floor as you walk probably is the one that caught his attention.
“You know, you've been wearing the same shoes since 2019.”
Points for Max for noticing. These YSL Opyum heels are the first luxury items you bought for yourself after saving for three years to buy one pair. You saw a rich international student wear it once back in university and you liked how sophisticated it looked compared to all the pairs of converse or platform boots you owned. So you made it your life’s goal to own one. In 2019, after doing tons of part time jobs in university and working with Red Bull for a whole year, you managed to buy yourself one on your birthday and you’d been wearing them to work ever since.
Your regular work uniform consists of a Red Bull polo shirt, a pencil or a slit skirt, and that specific pair of heels. Around 2021, you bought another pair to replace the old one because the old one broke. And 2022 again.
“What's wrong with ‘em?” you ask, brows furrowing as you followed his train of sight. Your heels might be a year old already but they still look fine.
Max blinks, “No, there's nothing wrong. Just…Do you think you would want to wear some other design?”
“No,” is your reply. “I like ‘em just the way they are.”
“Okay.”
Your conversation drifts into something else as Max finishes his coffee and cake. You spend the rest of the day in Max’s penthouse, lying on his plush couch while a slasher movie from the 2000s played on his wide TV. He has given you access on his Netflix account so you abused it to your heart’s content because you don't even have. a Netflix subscription. You can absolutely afford one, you just choose not to. You have opted in using your phone mid-movie because the movie is beginning to get real scary but you do not want Max to think you're a coward so you acted like you're disinterested instead.
“Oh look, Charles is also back in Monaco. Do you want to hang out together?” you nudge Max with your foot, who swats it away from him, face contorting in disgust. You show him the post on Charles private IG—yes, you were mutuals in each other's private IG because whoever is friends with Max was friends with you by extension—on your phone.
“Stop makin’ that face, my feet are nice.”
Your toenails are a glorious red now. Ferrari red actually and they suit you better than the Red Bull red. Huh, maybe you should have considered applying for Ferrari instead of Renault in 2018.
“No, it isn't.”
You roll your eyes, pulling it away from him and sitting up, “Do you want me to schedule you a dinner with Charles? You might need the bro time, you know? Dad said bro times are also important, but not as important as family time, of course. My bro broke up with his sweetheart back when I was still in uni and his best buds were the reason he was back up in tippy top shape by the end of the week.”
Max stares at you blankly, “I think I understand the words individually but not the sentence entirely. I don't know if it's the accent or you Americans just have a strange way of structuring your sentences.”
“Point is, hang out with a friend because a friend can help you move on from a pussy.”
Max hurls a throw pillow at your direction, which you luckily avoided thanks to your non-racer level but still considerably good reaction time, but unfortunately, this action causes your center of gravity to shift and before you know it, you're falling from the couch. Unconsciously, you grab Max but then Max doesn't expect that you’ll grab him so now, you’re both falling off the couch and onto the floor.
You groan.
“Fuckin’ ass, man. That was uncalled for.”
He flips you off.
Nevertheless, Max ends up following your advice though and calls Charles to hang out the next day. Lestappen fans should be thanking you on Twitter the next day for bringing those two together on an off-day in Monaco. Maybe they'll hang out and eat together in a restaurant? Maybe they'll go on a yacht picnic?
Except Max sends you a message at high noon.
him: sos
you: is your kitchen burning
him: no
him: but this is still an emergency and you need to come quick
him: he’s with his girlfriend and i don’t want to thirdwheel
you: succ it up
him: you can’t do this to me
him: i just got my heart broken in abu dhabi
you: where are you
him: home
him: i also need help in cooking
Charles is the one who answers the door when you knock. He looks genuinely surprised when he sees you and you deduce that Max hasn't told him that you're coming over.
“Babe, who’s that?” you hear Alex’s voice behind Charles and you light up immediately, quickly moving past Charles to throw your hands around the sweet young woman.
“Alex!” Alexandra laughs and hugs you back. The sound of her laughter is as pretty as she and God definitely has favorites because why did he sculpt this twenty-one year old like the daughter of the Aphrodite while you look like you were born from one of Hephaestus’ sperm that lost the gene pool contest? The world is unfair. You always get the short end of the stick, may it be career-wise or appearance-wise, and you can't even bring your personality to the table because normally, without the whole act of professionalism and sophistication you put on, you act like an extroverted American frat boy on a good day and a sassy drag queen slash war freak on a bad day so yeah, you guess that's the short end of the stick, too.
“Seriously?” you look up and saw Max holding a frying pan, staring at you unimpressed. You roll your eyes and slowly pull away from the hug, gaze returning to Alexandra.
“How’ve you been, sweetie? Been a while since I last saw you.”
You didn't get a chance to talk to her in Abu Dhabi and in Las Vegas.
“Good,” she replies, smiling sweetly and ugh, you want to pinch her cheeks so bad. But Charles is pulling you away from Alexandra before you can do so.
“No, no, she is mine, yours is right over there,” Charles says, pointing at Max, who's still standing there in the corner. “Go on. Shoo.”
You roll your eyes before walking up to Max, “‘Sup?”
Max raises a brow at you, “So Charles’ girlfriend gets a hug and I get a sup?”
“Well, she's Alexandra Saint Mleux and you’re just….” you look him up and down. “Nevermind, what you trynna cook?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“I thought you said you were cooking.”
“I said I needed help with cooking.”
Your eyes narrow into slits, “You’re going to let me do the cooking, aren't you?”
“You know that pasta you made in September that you said was your mother’s recipe?”
A sigh escapes your lips as you roll the sleeves of your button-up to your elbows and power-walked your way to the kitchen, the sound of your YSL heels clicking against the floor bouncing against the walls of Max’s kitchen.
Lunch goes great. Charles and Alexandra love your cooking. Max has even asked for seconds. Good to know that he's eating well. Somewhere down the line, champagne is served even though it’s mid-afternoon and the four of you're sitting in Max’s balcony, staring at Monaco scape below. Thankfully, it is a cloudy day in Monaco. The heat of the sun isn't too harsh on the skin. Despite that, you hand Max a sun screen.
“Sorry about Kelly, by the way,” Alexandra says. Your conversation has drifted towards Max’s failed relationship now.
“That is very nice of you to say,” replies Max, smiling slightly. “But I’m okay.”
You give him a look, clearly unconvinced. Admitting vulnerability gives him hives so he's definitely lying.
“You look too okay for a guy who ended a three-year relationship,” Charles muses and his words get you immediately thinking.
Oh? So they’ve been dating that long? You never noticed.
“Even [Name] looked worse when she broke up with that Williams mechanic two years ago and they dated for like what? Barely a year?”
“Unprovoked!” you exclaim. Alex and Max laugh.
But yeah, Charles is right. When you broke up with Leo in 2021, it was not the prettiest sight. He entered Williams mid-2020 as a mechanic and he immediately caught your attention. He's kind and handsome and a very sweet guy. You have similar interests—engineering—and a similar sense of humor and you just….work so well together, you know? You were sure he was your soulmate the moment he cracked up that Physics pickup line and you know it was the same with him. You swore to God that you’d run away from all the British charming assholes but Leo made you eat your own words and gave you a run for your money.
But alas, 2021 season came and Red Bull Racing became busier than ever because Max and Hamilton got crazily competitive and Max demanded your full attention, needing you as a support system to win.
And Leo. Well, he’s busy, too. Engineers are always busy. But he felt neglected because all your attention was on Max. He felt like he was competing with Max for your attention and it shouldn't even be a competition in the first because Leo was the boyfriend and Max was not. And you cannot even deny that you prioritized Max that year. You wanted Max to win. You needed Max to win, so he can finally ask Horner to move you to the engineering team.
Losing Leo is devastating but Max won the WDC title that year and while you spent nearly a month crying over Leo after the breakup, you're hoping that at least, in 2022, you’ll finally get that damned engineering position at the cost of losing your soulmate. That the tears you shed and the broken heart you carried inside your ribs will be worth it if it was in exchange for your dream. Then, it does not happen. The job isn't given to you and you spent the early months of the 2023 season wishing that you have chosen Leo instead of Max Verstappen.
“You’re still friends with him, right?” Charles turns to you.
“Of course,” you say honestly. You're still mutuals on IG and he still hearts your IG stories at times. You still talk, too, on the freer nights where there's a lot of time to waste. “We ended on good terms.”
“How about you, Max?”
“Can we not talk about this please?”
The four of you empty that bottle of champagne and once the sun has begun retiring for the night, Alex and Charles also left. You're soon to follow, fixing your tote bag and going through the mental checklist in your head so you will not forget anything and not waste energy returning here to pick it up.
“You can stay for dinner.”
Max’s offer surprises you.
“No.”
His face drops as quickly as your answer came.
“You're goin’ to let me cook again.”
“No, I’ll cook.”
You give him an unimpressed look. Clearly, you're not convinced.
“I swear, I’ll cook.”
“What if I get poisoned?”
“You won't get poisoned.”
When you continue staring at him, he sighs.
“Just stay please?”
Of course, you stayed. He asked after all.
You keep your eyes on him as he makes dinner with clumsy hands and a bit of unsureness behind his actions.
“You're goin’ to burn it, honey,” you point out.
“What honey? I didn't put any honey in it.”
You blink. He blinks back.
“You’re gonna give me aneurysm one day.”
Shaking your head, you walk into the bathroom at the end of the enormous hallway, lock the door behind you, lean your back against the door, and slowly slides down until your ass meets the cold bathroom floor. You slap a palm against your forehead and purse your lips to stop a scream from erupting.
God fucking dammit, Max is too adorable back there and this is not doing good things for your heart.
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clockwayswrites · 5 months
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Like Betta Fish Do - Part 29
WC 2500, Masterpost
A Press of the Button:
An Exclusive Interview with Jason Wayne and Danny Nightingale Following the Infamous New Years Eve Choice
By Clark Kent
“I’m going to throw up.”
I’m sure that I wasn’t supposed to overhear that; it’s not exactly an auspicious start to an interview. Here inside of Wayne Manor’s stately halls the noise of the crowd of press outside of the gate has fallen away and the words from the other side of the door are clear. The voice isn’t one that I recognize, so I place it as the young man at the center of the event: Daniel Nightingale.
“Danny, please, I’ve never liked Daniel,” he’ll introduce himself to me once I’m inside the sitting room. Jason Todd is at his boyfriend’s side, looming like an avenging angel. Or, since we’re in Gotham, a very large bat.
When I was assigned the interview, I hadn’t been sure where it would be held. As readers may know, Jason Todd hasn’t lived at the Manor since his miraculous return from the dead. There were, as he said, too many memories in the Manor for him to return. At the time he had still been struggling to overcome the unfortunate amnesia that he had suffered during his brutal abduction as a teenager.
Whatever trauma is still lingering, it’s clear that both young men are taking comfort being in the manor. The proverbial wagons have been circled inside of the family home. Even cleaned up the sitting room shows signs of a rotation cast of family keeping the pair company: a plethora of blankets, stacked board games, feel-good food, and, of all things, a plush trilobite.
As we take our seats, Danny leans unconsciously into Jason’s space like a flower to the sun. His nerves are clear in the way that his fingers fidget restlessly with the edge of his sleeves. The red sweater is far too large for him and hangs off of one thin shoulder. I have to guess that it’s Jason’s sweater and worn today for comfort. I doubt anyone could blame Danny seeking comfort wherever he can find it.
Less than a week ago Danny was abducted from the Wayne’s New Years Eve party by a Gotham villain known as Two Face. The villain came into being after Harvey Dent, a district attorney in Gotham, was traumatically exposed to a toxic chemical. (More about Two Face can be read in the article ‘A Flip of a Coin’.) Danny had been taken off site while a handful of party goers were strapped to an explosive device.
Presented with the horrifying choice between his boyfriend or his father and youngest brother, Jason had pressed the red button connected to Danny’s trap.
Danny Nightingale had been electrocuted to death.
And survived.
It’s the perfect sort of awful story to capture the attention of the public and press alike, and it’s the reason that I’m at Wayne Manor now.
Hoping to make Danny feel more settled, I start off with some pleasantries before going in with a soft question. How is he doing with all the attention that the event has been getting? It must be overwhelming.
Danny glances towards the front of the house where outside lies the front yard, the protective gate, and the press. “It is. I feel like I’m still getting used to living in a city as big as Gotham, so all of this suddenly… yeah, it’s a lot.”
Danny grew up in a much smaller city in central Illinois called Amity Park. He moved to Gotham in the late summer of last year to continue his education at Gotham University. It’s a change that he describes as good, even as overwhelming as it is.
“Gotham has been surprisingly easy to fall in love with. I can see why Gothamites are so protective of the city,” Danny explains with the first hint of a smile on his face that I’ve seen since I came through the doors.
When I ask him if he hopes to stay in Gotham long term, Danny glances at Jason and blushes faintly. “I’d like to, if I can find work. There’s a lot here worth staying for and the city is just part of that.”
The words cause the first blush I’ve seen on Jason’s cheeks since he was new to the Wayne family and a little overwhelmed himself. Clearly Jason is one of the things worth staying for.
We talk a little about how Danny likes the Wayne family. He admits that he’s still getting to know them. He’d only been introduced to most of the family at the end of last year, right before finals. Already, though, there are stories to be told about board games and good food. Beyond the Waynes, Danny has someone else very important in Gotham.
“Your sister is in town, isn’t she?” I ask. “I imagine having her here during this has been nice.”
“It is. I was actually supposed to go and see her after New Years, but obviously…” Danny clears his throat and Jason takes one of Danny’s hands in his. Danny instantly relaxes into Jason’s side. “But yeah, having her here is really nice.”
“I take it you two are close then?”
“She was my anchor growing up,” Danny says with a little smile that’s tinged with sadness. “I wish she hadn’t had to be. Now that I’m older I know how unfair that was to her, but I’m so lucky that she did. She could so easily resent me for it, but she doesn’t at all. It makes it really easy to love her.”
“Not that it’s hard,” Jason adds with a chuckle. “I think her and Dick have already made an oldest sibling club and Damian thinks both Nightingales hung the moon, I swear.”
“Speaking of Nightingale, that isn’t your original last name, is it?”
It’s been an item of note in the recent write ups on Danny that both of the siblings had changed their last name to Nightingale from their birth name of Fenton. Their parents, doctors both, still go by Fenton. In Gotham, at least, the Doctor Fentons would be described as mad scientists. The so-called ‘ectobiologists’ have made their life a study of ghosts. In Amity Park, ‘the most haunted town in America’, they’re just part of the atmosphere.
Danny sighs and glances away. “No. Jazz and I both changed our last names when we turned eighteen. Jazz had wanted me to change it and go with her when she turned eighteen, but she had this great scholarship for college and she’d taken care of me enough. I couldn’t put that on her too, so I refused to until I was eighteen.”
“So you didn’t actually emancipate yourself?”
“Nope. One day late for that. But I moved out the same day I changed my name.”
“How did your parents take that?”
A wry smile twists Danny’s lips. “They didn’t notice until months later when the lab had gotten too dirty.”
“The lab?”
“It was one of my chores to clean it; another thing that I get was messed up now that I’m older and away from there. We, um, think that it was my exposure to all those chemicals that made me a meta.”
By all accounts, Danny’s meta status is how he survived the electrocution. It’s a label that he looks slightly uncomfortable with.
“It’s not that I mind being a meta,” he’s quick to assure me. “It’s just that… what actually made me one was an accident in the lab. I was electrocuted.” He raises his left arm up. The overly large red sleeve pools down to reveal a branching network of faint silver scars tracing his skin. “It’s hard right now to think back to it, after what happened. I really didn’t know if I would survive… either time. I’m lucky that all I have are scars.”
“But you thought that you might survive.”
“I did,” Danny says with a little shrug. He seems almost at ease with that question, unlike Jason.
Jason has to take a moment to press a kiss to Danny’s temple.
“After the first time I was electrocuted,” Danny explains, “I became a little more resistant to electricity— little shocks and things. It’s not like I ever tested it out with anything big. I guess it was just a feeling I had.”
When I ask Danny if he’s alright to talk about the night of the party he looks stressed by the idea but still gives a little nod. As he points out, it is why I’m there.
“I was getting some fresh air,” Danny explains. He’s picking at the sweater again. “The night was really lovely, but it’s just not the sort of thing I’m used to, you know? So I just wanted a moment to gather myself. I guess… I guess they were already watching me, because they knocked me out before I even really knew they were there.
“I woke up strapped to a metal chair. They’d taken my shoes and socks off. I couldn't understand why, but then,” Danny has to pause here and take a moment. Jason pulls him closer. “Then I noticed that my feet were in water and there was a wire in the water too. The wire wasn’t live but it’s… I mean it wasn’t hard to put it all together.”
“That must have been terrifying.”
“Yeah.” Danny looks over at the windows and the gray winter day beyond them. “I didn’t know who had taken me or why. I could hear some people close, talking about waiting for a signal, but it wasn’t much. When my eyes adjusted I could see a camera on a tripod and a laptop. I didn’t know what was going on, not until it turned on.
“Two Face was on it. I guess you know I’m not a native Gothamite that it took me a moment to recognize him,” Danny said with a weak laugh. “He explained what he was doing.”
I ask Danny what his first thought was when hearing the plan.
“Worry for Jason. Which I know sounds insane, but I guess… I guess I had already accepted the circumstance I was in. I just didn’t want Jason to have to go through that choice.”
“And then Jason was on the screen.”
“Yeah.”
“Jason, what were you feeling at seeing Danny on the television?”
“What do you think?” Jason asks, frustration lacing through his voice. “I was pissed off. I was scared. I was… I hated myself.”
“Why?”
“Because Danny was only in that situation because he was dating a Wayne. Because he was dating me. And there he was, a few seconds from death, bleeding, and… and telling me that he loved me.”
While Danny sounds almost detached talking about it, possibly a coping mechanism, Jason sounds like every wound is still fresh. It paints a terrifying picture of what it’s like to be the one to die versus the one who presses the button.
I turn back to Danny. “You said something to Jason in the video after that. There's been a great deal of debate about your words. Do you feel alright discussing them.”
Danny nods. I read out the quote: You know what you have to do, don’t you?
“Danny, what did you mean?”
“That Jason had to press my button,” Danny says with surprising ease. It’s clear that the order was one that he still stands by.
I ask about that certainty.
Danny gives a little shrug. He tucks himself back further under Jason’s arm, but I'm certain that the move is more for Jason’s comfort. “It was me or a group of other people. That would have been enough. I would never put myself first like that, but then you add in Damian and Bruce being part of that group? I couldn’t ask Jason to choose me over his family and Jason knows I wouldn’t.”
What about the chance of survival?
“Jason and I had talked about my accident before. Death… it’s something we both get, you know? So we both knew that there could be a chance of me surviving, but there was never any guarantee.”
“Are you going on record that you told Jason to press the button, knowing it could kill you?”
“Absolutely.”
And how did that insistence make Jason feel? Right then it seems all Jason can do is curl up around Danny, as if he can shield him from the past.
“Fucking horrible. Danny just looked at the whole situation and made the choice for me. I don’t know, maybe I should think that was freeing, but I still had to press the button.”
I point out that he could have made the other choice and he just shakes his head. “And make Danny live with that? He had made his choice. He didn’t want to trade his life for theirs. I hated it, but what sort of person would I have been if I didn’t let Danny take control of his own life? I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with either choice, so at least… at least I could listen to Danny.”
So Jason had pressed the button, Danny had been electrocuted (he refused to speak on the experience), and Jason had attacked Two Face. The man had ended up with a broken jaw and fractures in the orbital rim. It was while Jason had been sobbing in his father’s arms that they had gotten the word from one of Gotham’s local heroes: Danny was still alive.
“What did I feel? Hope,” Jason said with an almost despairing laugh. “I don’t… hope and I don't do well these days, but I felt hope. I don’t know if I believed it until I was actually holding his hands.”
“I was a little out of it when they got there,” Danny admits, which seems more than fair considering everyone else would have been dead. “But I’m so grateful to Nightwing and the paramedics taking care of me and letting me see Jason before the hospital. I really… I really needed him right then.”
And now?
“I’d like to say that I’m alright, but,” Danny shrugs, “it’s a lot to go through. But I know I’ll be alright. Jason and his family are amazing and I have Jazz here. I’ll keep healing, physically and mentally, and so will Jason. I know the internet has a lot to say about it all, but I think they need to understand that this turned out the best way that it could have.”
Jason kisses Danny’s temple again with a slight smile. He seems to be in agreement with everything his boyfriend said.
“I suppose I have just one more question,” I say after a moment of looking over my notes. “Why do you call Danny ‘fish’?”
I don’t get an answer, but maybe hearing those two able to laugh so soon after such a traumatic event is better than a story.
---
AN: *flops dramatically* darlings, this chapter is finally done! Thank you to @chromatographic and @mokulule for cheer/beta reading for me. This one was really hard to write since it's out of the normal style wise for me, but it felt like the best way to tell the story right there.
I hope you enjoy it!
I no longer tag, you can subscribe at the masterpost!
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1d1195 · 10 months
Text
Sun-Kissed I
Here is a fluffy/smutty little piece of love on the beach. It’s ~9k words. It’s a love at first sight kind of thing I know it’s kind of ridiculous for them to be falling in love so fast but it’s my story and I’m sticking with it. Also, sorry that I’m really into sunflowers right now. Sunflower Vol. 6 has been on my mind lately so that’s gonna make an appearance for the third time as of late. I don’t know if anyone else cares about all my little easter eggs regarding real life Harry in my writing but I’m really pretty proud of the news one I put in here. I'm sorry they're both teachers again I needed them to have summer's off to make this work. Their careers are not a major part of the story.
Warnings: There’s some pretty 18+ things happening here. Masturbating, public sex (kinda), thigh riding, etc. If you’re not into this, I wouldn’t read it. It's all fluff otherwise. There won't be a bit of angst.
I've been trying to write this for over a year and finally came pouring out. Unfortunately, there will be a second part next Thursday only because I thought it was getting too long. So it does end a little abruptly. Hope you enjoy anyway :)
Harry was fascinated by her, simply put. He wanted to spend forever at dinner with her. Chatting with her. Looking at her beautiful face. Envying how the sun got to kiss her, and he didn’t.
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Harry didn’t grow up near a beach so he thought this would be great way to cash in on his vacation time over the summer. Sitting at the beach, reading a book, and dipping his toes in the water when it got too hot. His mum knew someone who knew someone who gave him a great deal on the summer rental, and he was beyond excited to sit and relax for the first time in years.
Being an earlier riser had its advantages. For one, he got the pick of where to set up his summer getaway on the beach. He brought a cooler, a chair, and a few towels along with a book or two to spend the day. Through his sunglasses, he faced the direction of the sunshine. He hadn’t had a proper summer holiday since he was young and now that he was busy teaching and had summer’s off, he was elated to have some time to himself.
Once he settled his belongings, he turned on a summer playlist he’d been working on for a while. He didn’t turn it up loud—he would never want to bother anyone that may join him on the beach—but it was loud enough to hear and not interrupt his imagination while reading.
It was utterly peaceful.
Apparently, Harry was unaware of just how truly peaceful the beach could be.
“Hey,” a voice said softly, it was sweet. A gentle shake on the arm, her skin was cool to the touch. His eyes blinked open unsurely. He realized he fell asleep and didn’t even get through the first page of his book. “Hi,” she whispered with a gentle smile. “You’re going to start burning,” she explained handing over a bottle of sunscreen to his hands while Harry tried to wake himself up. “And your book is in the sand,” she said grabbing it before the spine broke from all the grains of the beach ruining the binding.
“Oh,” he shook his head desperate for his brain to catch up to his surroundings. “Thanks,” he said gratefully.
“No problem!” She chirped heading back to the chair that was a few meters in front of him. “I already burned once this summer and it was miserable. Just don’t want you to suffer the same fate.”
He pushed open the bottle and started rubbing on the sunscreen. It felt like he was going to have a slight burn already. The relief of the lotion on his skin made him wary. “Ah, guess...I should probably leave,” he chuckled. “Try again tomorrow.”
“Oh...if you want to stay, I have an umbrella,” she said cheerfully. “S’a nice day, just give me a minute to set up,” she smiled and gave her name to Harry.
Harry had hardly gotten a good look at her with a sleepy set of eyes a bit wiped by the sun. His brain was foggy with the impromptu nap. This small little town he was staying in had the vibe that someone like her would help a stranger. Everyone had been so nice in the grocery store and when Harry went for his run yesterday, people said hello and commented on how nice the evening was. It was an adorable little town and Harry was already dreading having to leave in two weeks’ time.
“Well, thank you. M’Harry,” he said quietly while he finished rubbing the lotion over his body. He watched her work, his mind less foggy. Glancing at his watch, he noted it was a little over two hours since he arrived. It wasn’t too hot outside still, so his burn would be minor if he got one at all. With the addition of a blanket and the umbrella, it was almost a mirror image of Harry’s little set up. A chair, a cooler, and a couple towels.
She had a ponytail pulled through a baseball cap and she wore a button down, rolled to the elbows. The top few buttons were open revealing a deep blue bathing suit top, that scooped low enough to show off...
Harry had to be careful, or he was going to be sporting a prominent erection on a beach with a ton of families. He moved his gaze down past where he really wanted to look. The shirt came down to just above her knee and he saw a pair of flip flops discarded to the side of the blanket she had laid out in front of her stuff. “Nice day, huh?” She smiled as she twirled the umbrella stand into the sand.
“Tits—it’s really nice,” Harry said quickly stammering through his recovery.
Smooth.
She either didn’t notice his faux pas or didn’t care because she continued about her business. “Have you been here long?” She asked.
“Just arrived yesterday. Did some grocery shopping. Went for a jog.”
“Oh, how nice,” she had this infectious smile. Harry felt so happy just being around her. Or maybe it was the beautiful weather and the prettiest beach he had seen in years.
Or maybe it was her curvy figure that was making him lightheaded with happiness.
She pulled the shirt off finally, and Harry thought he might seriously need to leave. Head back for his little beach cottage to take care of blood rushing to his groin. She’s gorgeous. He thought to himself. “How ‘bout you?” He cleared his throat.
“I grew up here...and live here in the summer.”
He stared at her in surprise. “Here?” He asked.
She smiled and nodded. “It’s my favorite place on earth,” she explained.
“I can see why,” he nodded in appreciation. “Do you have any suggestions for while m’here?”
She nodded. “Plenty—how long are you here for?”
“Two weeks.”
“How lovely...let’s see...you’re at the beach—that’s most important in my opinion. I think if you stay here most of the time, you’ll have a successful vacation. There’s a place about twenty minutes from here where you can go clam digging if you like clams—I don’t really like them, but it’s fun to go. Paddleboarding on the river is also a really big thing. There’s this restaurant that everyone talks about. If you want, I know someone who works there, I could get you in. You’ll need a sweatshirt from the most touristy of tourist shops, but don’t go on a rainy day—everyone will be there. You’ll have to see the sunrise and the sunset. I think there’s a full moon too, so you’ll definitely want to see that over the ocean. I personally recommend ice cream and mini golf too. If you have time, you should also check out the nearby island. Even though this place is beautiful the island is like being in another country. It’s stunningly beautiful,” throughout her speech she continued working on the umbrella stand, putting the actual umbrella into place and tilting it back to create more shade.
Harry thought it would be really forward of him to invite her on all those adventures. Especially when someone as beautiful as she was surely had a significant other. Add in the fact he met her less than ten minutes ago; he would have seemed insane. “Wow, sounds like a packed schedule.”
She laughed and Harry swore he had never heard a sound as beautiful. She was still organizing her items and she gestured under the umbrella for Harry to move his stuff. “I’m really passionate about this place I forget people want to relax.”
“S’okay,” he chuckled. “You’re right t’be passionate. M’sure you’re right; I’ll make every effort t’do it all,” he promised and began moving his stuff below her umbrella. “Everyone is so nice here,” he told her. “Yourself included.”
“Why thank you,” she smiled sweetly and settled into her beach chair finally, facing the sun. He swore that someone this stunning couldn’t be real. She looked like a beach goddess—sun-kissed hair and skin. “What are you reading?” She asked, turning her head toward him covering the side of her face to keep the sun out of her eyes even though she wore sunglasses too.
He couldn’t even remember why he picked the book up. “Er...I fell asleep before finishing the first page,” he admitted shyly. She giggled.
“The beach does that, I swear. Something about total relaxation and the warm sun. I’m like a cat. Once I lay on my stomach, I’m out like a light.”
“Do you read?”
She nodded. “Have to; I’m a middle school teacher.”
“Oh,” Harry smiled. “I teach secondary.”
“No way!”
So, for the whole morning, Harry forgot about his book. Forgot about his playlist that was still going—except for anytime she asked what song was playing. They talked for literally three hours straight never once a lull in the conversation. Work, books, the beach, music, and anything they thought of. He told her about his family coming to visit for the weekend and she told him about her family who didn’t love this place as much as she did who would probably not visit—even if they missed her and loved her with everything in them.
At lunch they finally quieted their conversation to eat and watch the water. “I don’t see a burn,” she told him glancing over his face and skin as she finished her sandwich. He smiled.
“Thank you,” he said gratefully. “I’d be a proper crisp by now.”
She held the sunscreen out to him again. “I know this is a little weird, would you mind getting my upper back?” She asked.
Touch her? Harry didn’t have to be asked twice. Harry made sure to spray every bit of her skin. He didn’t want to be the reason she burned. As soft and beautiful as her skin was, Harry was glad she only asked to rub her back and shoulders. If he had to do her legs or any other part of her body, he definitely would have passed out.
She spread herself out on her blanket. Book near her face. “I’m so going to fall asleep,” she yawned. “Will you wake me if I start to burn?” She asked.
Harry nodded wordlessly and brought his book up toward his face. “Sure, love,” he murmured. Hopefully not showing how smitten he was with her already.
*
Harry might have wormed his way into her heart as her favorite person ever. It was so unlike her to wake a total stranger from a nap. But he was one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen in her life. She couldn’t imagine letting him roast in the sun all morning and ruining his vacation. It was even more unlike her to invite him to sit with her.
She liked to believe she was a kind soul—most everyone told her that she was, so it wasn’t unnatural for her to invite him to hang out with her. But if it wasn’t for the fact that Harry was a teacher, it could have been a lot more dicey.
It was so easy to talk to Harry. The entire morning was so much better than she ever expected just by being in his presence or chatting with him. Other than her reading-nap—where Harry woke her up after an hour so she could reapply another layer of sunscreen—they talked literally the whole day. Harry didn’t mind putting sunscreen on her and she returned the favor when they switched positions so Harry could get some on his back.
Touching him might be her new favorite pastime.
She left a bit before Harry wanting to go for a walk and shower before eating dinner and reading a bit on her porch. Plus, she had to pace herself if she was going to last at the beach all summer. After her shower, she put on an oversized shirt like she wore to the beach and a pair of shorts. It looked like she wasn’t wearing pants but didn’t mind. The sun finally crested the top of her cottage, so she was no longer baking in the sun and made the porch the loveliest little place to read and enjoy the evening. She had a bowl of watermelon chunks beside her, and sunglasses perched on her nose.
Growing up she never loved summer all that much. Of course, she loved the beach and the time off from school, but she started working part time when she was fourteen and summer never had the same feeling as it did when she was young until she started teaching. Now she would tutor virtually some nights throughout the summer—especially for college students taking summer courses. But mostly she spent her time here in the little beach cottage her grandma had specifically named to her in her will after she saw how much she cared for it—especially since she was the only one in her family who had summers off and still cared about this little town. Once her grandma passed away, no one really felt the need to stay—her parents sold the home she grew up in. It wasn’t brokenly tragic that her grandma died—she was old, and these things happened. Besides, she felt by being in the little town she grew up in and living in the cottage left to her was enough to live her summers in honor of her grandmother.
Her mother technically owned the other cottage her grandmother had and while her mom really wanted to sell it, she insisted she would take care of it while she was here and tend to any renters.
Which is why her mother texted her at least once a week about the renter at the cottage just three houses down the road. Our renter said there’s only one towel. Any ideas?
She gasped wondering how it slipped her mind to take the towels out of the dryer and fold them neatly into the bathroom linen closet. On it. She responded and practically ran down the road. She knocked on the door to her second home away from home and waited for the person on the other side to answer. While waiting she noticed the little sign below the main window was crooked—fell off the hook again in the ocean wind. She needed to remember to bring a pair of pliers back to close the loop the next time she came over.
The two cottages were almost identical. Except this door was a sea blue and hers was a sea green. They were little wooden cottages, shingled top to bottom. Just two windows at the front of the house, two on the back, and one on each side. There were two skylights in the roof allowing for lots of natural light. Each home had two small bedrooms, a bathroom, a spacious sitting area and full kitchen. They were wall to wall hardwood floors even though her Grandma in the 70s tried very hard to convince everyone it needed carpeting. But try vacuuming sand out of a beach cottage all the time. Due to space behind the home, hers had a little patio but this one was fitted with a little patio and an outdoor shower.
The blue door opened while she was still putting the wood block that read Sea View back in it’s place. “Uh...hello?” He asked. She turned to find Harry, surprise all across his face, to see the girl he met earlier outside his rental.
Of course it was Harry. “Oh, how funny!” She chirped excited to see the gorgeous man from the beach once more—her plan right now was to not-so-casually run into him at the beach again the next day. “I should have asked where you were renting!”
He smirked. “Hi love,” he said sweetly, confused that she was here. “Uh...what are you doing here?”
“My family owns this cottage,” she explained. “Mom texted me that you don’t have towels? That’s my fault. Left them in the dryer when I was cleaning on turnover day. I’ll fold them now,” she said and marched herself inside and maneuvered through the familiar room with ease.
“Oh,” Harry said. “S’okay, love. I didn’t mean t’bother you—I would have found them eventually—”
“Absolutely not, it’s your vacation! You deserve clean towels and not have to worry about looking for things,” she was already piling the fluffy array of sea blue and green towels out of the dryer and began folding them expertly. “I’m going to leave you my number so if you need anything you can just ask me. I always tell her to just give them my number, but she worries about weirdos taking advantage of me,” she rolled her eyes.
What would possess me to say that to Harry?
He smiled as he watched her flurry of activity. Her rambling little monologue. She was definitely scaring him. It occurred to her at that moment she didn’t even wait to be invited into his space. Just strode right in. “Glad m’not a weirdo. I agree with y’mum. Think I would like her,” he nodded firmly.
She felt her face warm, and she hoped the tan hid the blush as much as possible. Harry’s nose and cheeks looked a bit red—like he caught a bit of a cold. The rest of his body was covered by a simple pair of jogging shorts and a simple t-shirt so she couldn’t see if he burned and also didn’t want to be caught staring at him—especially thinking about the abs he had on display under the litany of tattoos she saw earlier at the beach. “Well, I will fold these and get out of your hair,” she said focusing on the towels. But her brain glitched out once more. “Oh, do you like surfing?” She asked.
He chuckled leaning against the frame of the door leading to this utility room. “Only been once with a group of m’friends. S’not m’cup of tea. M’not very good.”
“Oh, okay. I just want to make sure I recommend everything you might like.”
He was smirking at her like she was a bit crazy—and she was—but Harry wasn’t helping. Without sunglasses she saw he had green eyes. Green. She was done before this even started. Once all the towels were folded, she made herself at home once more, hurrying to the bathroom to put all the towels in place. The bathroom smelled like men’s cologne: sandalwood and sage. Jesus Christ it’s like he was built in a lab for me.
Harry followed her as she put the towels away in an alternating pattern. “Thank you,” he said. “Y’really didn’t need t’do all that.”
“You’re the guest. You paid to get this kind of service,” she reminded him. “I’m also...only three houses down if you need something as well. It’s got a sign like yours below the window Sun-Kissed Cabana. My grandma named them.”
He nodded and stared at her for a few moments. She had only known Harry for all of five hours, but she could swear she knew his thoughts. He probably did think she was a bit crazy. “Do...do y’have plans for dinner?”
She felt her heart flutter. She was going to order her favorite pesto pasta dish from a local place that practically recognized her voice when she called. “Uh...no.”
“Would y’like t’go out with me in ‘bout an hour?” He asked.
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, please.”
*
She was finishing up her makeup when her phone vibrated with a second message from Harry. The first one was to alert her who was messaging Hiii, it’s Harry Xx. Followed by: Does this place have a fancy dress code?
No, no. Nothing fancy at all! They’ve def got a beach bar vibe.
Cool :) I’m ready when you are.
Shit. She wanted to curl her hair a bit and look extra nice but maybe that would have looked like she was trying too hard after she just got through telling him it wasn’t a fancy place. She had on a maxi dress. Black top nothing revealing and then the skirt pattern had sunflowers all over it. She would have to forgo the curls and instead pushed the front of her hair back with a headband. Just need like five more minutes.
I’m in no rush, love. Please take your time Xx.
She thought she was going to melt. Fortunately, her tanned skin hid most of the imperfections of her face. She also preferred maxi dresses because it hid the thickness of her thighs and more imperfections like bumps from shaving and bruises from whacking herself on her beach chair. She thought the style she chose also perfectly accentuated the curve of her waist. While it didn’t show off her cleavage—it was her personal belief her boobs were one of her better assets—she thought after a day at the beach with them on full display due to her bathing suit, dinner might be a little gentler without them in Harry’s face the whole time.
With a spritz of her perfume and gathering all her necessary belongings into her purse, slid on her favorite pair of sandals with gold brushed embellishments, and headed outside. There wasn’t really a discussion of how they would get there, but she decided to walk down the road back to Sea View. Harry was crouched by the sign, pliers in hand closing the very loop she said she would. “Oh, I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do that,” she said hurriedly feeling like a terrible hostess.
He turned and smiled at her. “No worries, love. S’easy. Jus’ found some pliers in the utility closet.”
“Well, thank you,” she murmured gratefully. Harry stood, putting the pliers just inside the doorway before locking it with the passcode. He turned to her.
“Is this place walking distance, or should I drive us?” He asked. His hair was fluffed in these beautiful chocolate waves that of course reminded her of the beach but made her want to bury her hands in it and kiss his perfect face until she was out of breath.
“Uh,” she didn’t think she wanted to walk in a dress, but maybe that was the experience of this vacation for him. Harry looked utterly comfortable but perfect (naturally) in a pair of navy-blue khaki shorts and grey short sleeve button down. The lack of sleeves showed off those tattoos that she was continuously falling for. On his feet he wore a pair of light grey sneakers. “We can walk, but it might take me a while in a dress and sandals.”
“Oh shit, of course. What m’I saying? Y’can’t walk in a pretty dress like that,” he said hurrying to the car and opening the passenger side. “After you, love. Jus’ need t’tell me the directions,” he smiled at her.
All the books she had brought to her summer vacation had a romantic flare to them. Her only thought was there should be a book written about this very day—meeting Harry at the beach and going on a date with him. It was impractical and a bit flighty of her to be so taken with him already.
But there was no way she could help it when he got in the driver’s seat, smiled at her with those dreamy dimples and his eyes twinkled at her behind those pretty lashes of his. “Y’look gorgeous, love.”
*
It was effortless how much he enjoyed her company. The idea that it was only his first full day and he had already had a good beach day and another good jog under his belt. The post-beach-and-jog shower was cold-watered but steamy as he thought of the pretty girl in her pretty bathing suit. He imagined her smile, the gentle curve of her lips as he wrapped his hand around his cock as the water cooled off his sweaty and warm skin for several minutes until he was finally relieved of seeing her...assets at the beach.
Seeing her immediately after he inquired about the lack of towels as soon as he had shorts on was like a dream. Her agreeing to dinner with a beautiful girl was not what he expected when he booked this trip six months ago. Only one day in and this was the best vacation he had ever been on.
They arrived at the restaurant and after searching through the menu in silence, they placed drinks and an appetizer to share.
Did he mention how effortless this all was? The conversation was once more not a moment of dullness. She was funny, beautiful, kind, and it seemed that everyone at the restaurant knew her at least a little bit. “Our sun-kissed angel is here!” A man shouted from across the patio where they were seated. Everyone turned to follow the gaze of the man and Harry smirked instead of being jealous because he was right. She was an angel. A tanned, lovely, gorgeous angel.
She rolled her eyes. “Harry, this is my friend Louis. I used to work here in the summer.”
“Before she went off an got a real job, like a traitor.”
Harry was fascinated by her, simply put. He wanted to spend forever at dinner with her. Chatting with her. Looking at her beautiful face. Envying how the sun got to kiss her, and he didn’t.
*
“Okay, well...we can’t not get ice cream,” she said knowingly.
“You just told the waiter you were too full for dessert,” he chuckled at her.
“You don’t get dessert at a restaurant when there are literally seven different ice cream shops within spitting distance,” she rolled her eyes. “Summer is for ice cream. If we hurry, we can see a sunset too.”
“Y’sure know how t’get the most out of a summer day.”
She frowned. “Oh...I’m sorry. I forget that you only have two weeks. We don’t have to. We can head back,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”
“No, not at all, love. S’a great idea,” he reached out across the console and rested his hand on her thigh near her knee. With the long dress covering her legs, it wasn’t terribly inappropriate, but it was so instinctive to reach out and touch her he felt he made a mistake when she was suddenly speechless. Unable to tell Harry where to go to get her precious ice cream. “Er...sorry,” he said pulling his hand back to rest on the gearshift between them. “Should have asked,” he felt his face warm in embarrassment.
“N-no, it’s okay,” she nodded quickly. Her voice was breathy as she stammered. “I was...” She shook her head. “You can touch me—I mean,” she put a hand over her face in embarrassment at the encouragement she just gave him. Harry decided to quickly put her out of her misery—he did say tits after looking at her for thirty seconds this morning, even if she didn’t hear it. He gave her leg a gentle squeeze as he moved his hand back to where it was. She was silent again once more and she rested one hand over his. Letting a few of her fingers fill the space between his but not twining them fully together. “Is this okay?” She asked softly.
Harry melted over her sweetness. “Perfect.”
*
They ate their ice cream on the beach sitting on the tall, white lifeguard stand since it was late. There was a smattering of running kids, a few dogs, and families littered closer to the water on the tidal flats. But no one was over where they were. Up on the soft sand encroaching on the dunes. They chatted in between licks and bites of ice cream and Harry was certain he was falling deeper and deeper in love with her by the millisecond. It was ridiculous. Love at first sight couldn’t possibly be real. He had three or four serious girlfriends (four if you counted his junior high love affair, three if you didn’t) all of whom he did fall in love with but over the course of weeks and months. Not minutes and hours. Maybe it was the salt air playing with his brain chemistry.
Certainly, it had something to do with the beautiful girl sitting so close to him he could feel her sun-kissed skin warming him from the gentle breeze floating off the water as the sun started its descent over the horizon. She took her phone from her purse and snapped a picture quickly. Hardly looked at it, barely centered it, yet it was the most beautiful sunset picture he’d ever seen.
“Are y’a photographer in y’free time?” He asked.
She snorted. “No, I do like taking pictures. But I have hundreds of these,” she said showing him the photo album of various sunset pictures she had taken over the years. Harry could see why she was so good at them. No two pictures looked alike which had to be a poem somewhere out there. Harry always considered himself a winter—growing up in cold England would do that to a person—and no two snowflakes were alike. Snowflakes had nothing on her sunsets.
“D’you want t’take a picture together?” He asked quietly.
She smirked. “Do I have chocolate on my face?” She wrinkled her nose at him.
Chuckling, he shook his head. “No,” he promised. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her snuggly against him. “S’this okay?” he asked almost directly into her ear. She nodded and smiled as she flipped her camera around to selfie mode. Harry had one arm around her waist, the other holding his ice cream cone. She reached her arm out to take the picture while she held her cup of ice cream in her lap with the other. Gazing at her screen, Harry couldn’t believe how effortless it felt to touch her. It was so easy to talk to her. And they looked like the perfect beach couple. “Can y’send that to me?” He murmured in her ear once more. She nodded mutely. Harry didn’t remove his arm from around her waist and he continued eating his ice cream.
Once finished with their treat, they continued chatting and watching the sunset listening to the laughter of families on the beach. The sky was so pretty Harry thought that she was right. This was the best place on earth.
*
They walked back to their cottages hand in hand, Harry stopping outside the door for the place labeled Sun-Kissed Cabana. “S’that why Louis calls you a sun-kissed angel?”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s something else.”
Harry chuckled. Leaned forward and swept his lips on the apple of her cheek. “I had the perfect first day with you, love,” he said softly. “Sleep well,” he hummed and turned to walk three houses down. She pressed a hand on her cheek like a lovesick idiot. She nearly forgot the code to get into her own house and felt like floating all the way to her room where she giggled and kicked across her bed as she smiled into her pillow.
*
The next three days were spent almost the same as the first. The beach: complete with reading, naps, and lots of talking to the pretty girl he liked so much already. Followed by a run, a shower, and then dinner. Harry tried really hard not to touch her without asking. The only allowance he gave himself to touch her without asking was when he truly felt like her back was getting a little singed. On the second day she made the grilled chicken salad she told Harry she was going to make before he invited her to dinner, but once he informed her he was a pescetarian she hurried to the store to get him some fish to grill instead. It was totally unnecessary, and Harry felt guilty she spent money on him like that for dinner (even though he was insistent he pay for dinner and ice cream the first night). Regardless, it was a delicious salad paired with zucchini noodles that truly tasted just like pasta. Harry made her write the recipe down for him.
“I can’t run at all,” she wrinkled her nose when Harry offered to join her on her evening walk the following day.
“I’d rather walk with y’then, love,” he said softly with a smile. “If y’want company, that is.”
She wanted to say she wanted Harry’s company. But thought that was a bit too much. But they walked side by side, Harry gently ushering her to the inside of the road without making any fuss about it. They continued their comfortable chattering. Talking of anything and everything. That night they ordered pizza that was delivered to Sea View and watched a movie in his living room, her feet in his lap where he rubbed the soles of her aching feet without prompting or full acknowledgement.
By the end of the third day, she thought Harry might be her best friend. He made crispy cauliflower tacos. He spent the evening simply reading on her back porch with her in comfortable, perfect silence.
*
The fourth day, they were sitting on her back porch again, sipping bubbly wine spritzers that she put in glasses of ice and combined with a popsicle to match the flavors. Harry thought it was sinful the way she licked the pop. Harry wanted to jump her bones so very badly.
“How do you like the outdoor shower?” She asked looking up at the sky full of stars. There was a citronella candle between them to keep the bugs away and she had a solar set of lights strung about her little patio. She was in a soft warm glow from the lights. Once more, looking sun kissed. She was wearing a shorter dress than the other day, shorts beneath it. She informed him about the shorts because she said it was an athletic-type dress and she may have sat weird and didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
Harry thought there wasn’t anything she could do to make him uncomfortable.
“I haven’t used it, actually. M’not sure I—”
She made an almost inhuman noise, a cross between a growl and gasp. It was quite adorable even if she seemed miffed and Harry wished he could have recorded the sound because he thought he would listen to it on loop for the rest of forever. “Harry!” She almost shouted. “The sole reason I took Sun-Kissed Cabana over Sea View was because I knew the outdoor shower would be a huge selling point for renters. You haven’t used it?” She looked nearly betrayed.
He chuckled, sipping his drink. “M’sorry, love. I didn’t realize—”
“Harry, I’m not kidding. You have to go use it. Like right now.”
He laughed loudly. If there could possibly be a downside of this little beach-cottage neighborhood, it would be that the houses were quite close, and Harry’s loud laughter could probably be heard back at his own place. But she was staring at him seriously. He thought she really expected him to get up and leave at this moment so he could get this experience.
“Y’serious?” He asked smirking at her.
“I don’t joke about the outdoor shower,” she promised him.
Finishing his popsicle and taking the last sips of his drink he stood from her little patio table and shook his head with a chuckle at her. “I guess m’going.”
He wanted to invite her. Especially if she didn’t have one here at Cabana. It sounded like she would like it more. “You better,” she continued licking the pop and Harry was grateful he would at least have a new image to think about in the outdoor shower when he imagined his hand around his dick was her mouth instead.
*
The air was cool but somehow warm. Sort of like the water on his skin. He could see the draw and actually surprised himself that he hadn’t used the shower yet. He imagined in the morning it would be heaven—most of his showers had been in the afternoon or evening since he was running at that time. But maybe he could take two showers a day—who cared? He was on vacation.
Was it heavenly? Her message read.
Harry thought about how much how active his imagination got picturing her in that shower with him, his hand fisting over himself until he imagined her pretty cleavage covered in him instead of flowing with the water down the drain. Extremely. But of course, he left out why it was so heavenly. You should write a book of recommendations for your guests.
:) You can come back over if you want. I know I kind of kicked you out, but like I said. I’m very serious about outdoor showers.
Chuckling to himself, he hurried to get dressed again and meet her back there.
*
She knew Harry’s family was coming today so she told him that she would give him all kinds of space but if he needed anything, he was not to hesitate to ask her. “M’mum and sister would love t’meet you, kitten,” he promised. He didn’t mean to call her kitten. But it rolled off the tongue so effortlessly and she was the one who said she felt like a cat in the sun. But he didn’t spend long thinking about it and continued his little speech. “Y’don’t have t’evade us.”
“I’m sure you want family time,” she promised. “Really, it’s fine. Plus, we’ll have a whole other week to do our little routine,” she felt her face warm as she spoke realizing she just told Harry she wanted to spend the remainder of his vacation together. She opened her mouth to backtrack almost instantly, but Harry beat her to the punch before she could speak again.
Given that Harry was this close to telling her he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, another full week spent together seemed like a great idea. “I can’t wait,” he promised.
They decided to do a sunrise that morning. She brought a blanket and was wrapped up in a long sleeve shirt along with a pair of sweatpants. She advised Harry to do the same. “The air is still cool from the night when you get to the beach early,” she explained the night before they parted to go to bed.
They were laying on the blanket angled by the natural slope of the dunes so they could see the view of the sun cresting on the ocean horizon. “Do y’have as many sunrise pictures?” He asked tiredly. With the sun rising at just after five-thirty she was courteous and kind in asking that they get there at five so they could see the dawn and array of beautiful colors painting the sky before the sun got there.
She giggled. “No way. Too early to see it that many times. I do like sunrises more, though,” she said. “It’s so much quieter. It’s not as hot. I don’t know. I think sunrises are just so beautiful.”
He immediately, silently agreed with her that they were. No matter how much he was enjoying sunsets with her. He would wake up at 4:45 every day if it meant watching something she found beautiful, and it made her happy. Harry had her pulled to his side again, his arm looped beneath the back of her neck. His eyes were closed as he fiddled with a strand of her hair running his fingers through the soft tendrils. “Harry,” she whispered after a few minutes. Harry felt the edges of sleep and the dreamworld starting to meld together on his brain. “You’re gonna miss it,” her voice was so gentle. Perfect for morning. She was the most beautiful thing he had laid eyes on but he couldn't bring himself to open them right now.
“Hmm,” he hummed. Refusing to open his eyes. “S’okay. We can see it another day,” he mumbled.
She giggled. “Harry,” she whispered so gently. It felt like magic. Warmth spread through his whole body. “We woke up so early,” she reminded him.
He nodded. “M’sorry,” he sighed. “It’s so peaceful,” he muttered. “You’re warm,” he turned his face to bury his nose in her hair and he nuzzled closer to her. Harry being a cuddler didn’t surprise her. He was quite touchy. But this sent her heart into a frenzy, and she forgot why they were there.
“Harry,” she whispered again feeling brave. Maybe because it was too early, and her brain wasn’t functioning.
“Jus’ lemme sleep, kitten. Please?” He muttered into her hair. “Wake me in twenty-nine minutes.”
She swallowed. “But...I want to kiss you,” she sounded so shy.
Harry’s eyes sprung open, and he pulled back from her quickly to look at her beautiful, perfect face. “M’awake,” he promised and gently cupped her cheeks, his fingers slipping through her hair, and he brought her face closer to his. Kissing her like he had been dreaming about over the last five days was the only thing on his mind.
She moaned against his mouth and Harry was really looking forward to that outdoor shower now. She pressed against him, keening as she licked into his mouth, sucking on his lower lip. Driving him absolutely mad as she nipped at his lip gently with her teeth. She could feel herself squeezing her thighs together for relief because she was finally kissing Harry the way she wished she did at sunset on his first night here.
Harry’s hands were cool against her flushed cheeks. “Kitten,” he hummed against her mouth, pecking at her like he would die without her kisses. “Y’taste so good,” he sighed dreamily.
She rolled to her side to face him squarely while he returned to his side too, instead of hovering over her. He wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her against him. Over the past four days at the beach, she had tried really hard not to stare at whatever was going on in Harry’s swimsuit, so she didn’t look like a sex-maniac. But there was no way she could ignore the hard dick she felt against her thigh as she pressed against the full length of his body. She imagined Harry fucking her so hard in that outdoor shower that the neighbors would have no way of ignoring what was happening. She moaned at the idea once more against his lips, thighs pressing together.
“Oh no,” he hummed. If she wasn’t already so drunk in love with Harry after one date and four days together, she might have thought his voice sounded a bit mocking. Slowly, he rolled onto his back holding onto her and perching her body on top of him as he did. One of his legs separated her thighs apart. “Do y’need something from me, love?” He cooed almost lovingly at the idea she was aching between her legs. He kept her pulled down toward him so he could continue kissing her, effectively melting all coherent thought.
Holy shit, his voice. Oh my God.
Without meaning to, she clenched her legs once more, this time, wrapped around Harry’s thigh causing friction, despite two layers of sweatpants and her underwear (at least those were thin). “N-no,” she almost whimpered trying to get away from his leg. Harry put his hands on her hips and gently pressed her back down toward him while bending his knee a bit. His thigh came closer in contact with her so if she wanted to, she could rub right against him.
“Y’sure, love? You look like y’might need something,” his voice was so sultry. It was too early for this. His eyes were somehow a deeper green. His lips were too pink after kissing her.
“N-no,” she shook her head despite wanting nothing more than to grind her pelvis against his thigh. She knew what it looked like beneath the sweatpants. She knew the tattoos that dotted his skin. Fuck, she wanted to get herself off so bad. But she was acutely aware of her position and tried to lift herself off his leg. “I-I think m’too heavy,” she stammered again.
He groaned and pulled her tighter against his leg. “No way, angel,” he promised. “Go ahead, know y’want to. I want y’to,” his voice was a bit husky. Like he was a bit confused. She groaned softly. God she wanted to. “That’s it,” he encouraged as she ground herself against him.
She felt flush, wishing she wasn’t wearing sweatpants. They were getting in the way. The long sleeve shirt was making her warmer. Or maybe it was Harry that was making her warm. Harry helped shift her hips back and forth against his leg as she moaned and whimpered as she rutted against his thigh. “Y’look so pretty, kitten,” he cooed. “Getting off on m’thigh like that. S’making me so hard, love. Fuck,” he moaned. “You’re s’pretty.”
She continued creating friction on between the two of them worried she would give herself a burn from all the fabric rubbing together but she was so fucking wet she was certain she would slide easily against him if she could take her pants off in public. The sun was still rising, not quite up over the horizon yet, but the sky was brighter, creating a gorgeous image of her beautiful body silhouetted from the light. “S’good, so good, baby,” he groaned. She whined and continued rutting herself against him.
“Harry,” she croaked.
“Yeah, love? Y’gonna come for me? Gonna come from jus’ m’thigh?”
Jesus Christ, she felt like she was a virgin. She was almost certain she was. Had she ever even had an orgasm before Harry? When was the last time she had sex? When was the last time she masturbated? Holy shit. This was bad. He was all consuming and he was fully clothed, and it was just his thigh.
She nodded at his words. Even though she felt a bit silly and stupid for doing this, with two layers of sweatpants between them. “Yeah? Good, want y’to. Y’look so pretty all—”
“Fucking hell,” she whimpered and dropped her face to his chest as she twitched against him. Harry flexed his muscle, gripping her hips and rubbing her against him so he could help her ride out the waves of her orgasm for a few moments. After that, Harry dropped his knee once more, letting her flatten against him. He kissed her forehead as she breathed heavily against him, shaky and sighing as she let the euphoria course through her. He rubbed up and down her back as she did, and he breathed deeply into her hair. She smelled like sunscreen and coconut.
“I really like sunrises,” he murmured. She smirked. Her face against his chest. “Y’sleepy, now, kitten?”
She nodded. “Yeah,” her voice was a bit quiet. Almost unsure. “Sorry,” she mumbled, nuzzling her face against his shirt.
He shook his head, kissing the top of her hair once more. “Don’t be sorry. Been thinking ‘bout y’coming all over me since I met you.”
She giggled. “Yeah?”
Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t very...flattering on his part. It also made it sound like he only liked her for the idea of sex. Which wasn’t the case. He liked her so much simply because she was the sweetest, nicest person he had had the pleasure of meeting for a really long time.
She rolled off him. He kind of hated it because even though it wasn’t freezing cold, it felt like it now that she wasn’t laying on his body. She looked at the outline of the bulge stretching against his gray sweatpants. It was still ten minutes until the sun would be touching the horizon. “Fair’s fair, yeah?” She wondered, looking up at him and then back down at the somehow growing outline. She would be lucky if he fit in her mouth.
“Angel, y’don’t have to jus’ because—”
She frowned. “Do...you not want me to?” She wondered, confused and worried that he was rejecting her. She didn’t know why if he had just used her thigh to get him off.
“No, no,” he said quickly wanting to ease the worry he saw fill her beautiful face. God he would rather die than reject her. “I mean...y’can do whatever y’want to m’body,” he nodded eagerly. “Jus’ don’t want you t’think you have to. Been thinking ‘bout—” his voice choked off as she outlined the bulge. “Oh...s’nice,” he moaned forgetting everything he was saying about what she could do to him. Her fingertip simply ran along absent-minded paths along his length. He struggled to remember the last time he had sex because he could only imagine the episode in the outdoor shower as the last time he orgasmed.
She giggled. “Nice?” She questioned; Harry was so polite. The way he walked with her on the inside of the road, the way he held her door open no matter if they were going in the house or the car, or if he simply carried her heavy cooler off the beach even though he was carrying his own belongings. For him to say it was nice the way she was touching his dick was simply...something else.
He nodded breathlessly. “Yeah,” he was already too far gone with just her goddamn finger touching him. He couldn’t have made any comment further if he wanted to. He moaned as she squeezed gently along the length of him. Five minutes till sunrise and the beach would be covered in light. She glanced around quickly, seeing they were still alone. She had never done this in the five years she had been staying the summer back in town keeping an eye on Sea View while living in Sun-Kissed Cabana.
“Do you think I could make you come in five minutes?” She whispered.
He groaned almost animalistically. “Love, I think y’could make me come in forty-five seconds,” he promised. And with that, she dipped her head toward his waist just until the sun was ready to cross over the horizon.
*
It was quite difficult not to text Harry all day long while his family visited. It was entirely due to having an orgasm at his hand (thigh); the creeping need to bond to the person who just made her entire world flip upside down was a prominent feeling throughout her body the whole day. The words of her book didn’t make any sense, so she opted for cleaning her bathroom. But that proved to be difficult too, and she spilled most of the mop water back onto the floor. After another fit of cleaning that up, she decided to spend her time at the grocery store since she was getting dangerously low on her much-needed items. She nearly forgot to go to the checkout line. After putting everything away she thought about just going to bed at three in the afternoon just to rid her mind of how crazy she was being and how awkwardly she missed her summer guy.
Fortunately, Harry broke first, before she fell asleep.
I know it’s silly, but I miss you terribly.
She felt so much relief reading his message. Oh, thank God. Me too.
You really should just come over. Mum and Gemma want to meet you. I won’t shut up about you. It’s...a bit pathetic how obsessed I sound actually. Mum’s in the outdoor shower while Gemma is taking pictures of the beach. We’re going to have dinner in a bit—you should join us. He put this shy little emoji after his message.
She was currently dressed in a pair of bike shorts and t-shirt that fell past her hips, barely a strip of the shorts showed. She had her hair pulled back by a claw clip. She wanted to go over there immediately. However, her outfit and hair did not look ready to meet Harry’s family. Plus, she was worried she would do something stupid like sit in Harry’s lap in front of his mother and sister and then she would have to jump out a window to hide her infatuation.
I would love to, but really...I’m sure they want to see you.
They want to ‘meet the girl that’s got me all flustered’ that I nearly dropped all our snack bar food in the sand today :)
She giggled. Glad he was also affected by their sunrise romp in the sand. Maybe tomorrow? She hedged instead. She really didn’t want to intrude.
Please, love. That would be wonderful.
*
She must have fallen asleep anyway. But she woke up to a knock at her door. She felt the claw clip sliding out of the back of her hair and she rubbed her eye as she made her way over. There stood Harry and two women outside the screen door. Each of them was holding a dish of (presumably) food. Immediately, she felt underdressed and stupid looking. “Uh, hey beautiful,” he smiled gently. “Sorry t’bother you. But seems the barbeque back there is out of gas,” he explained. “I sent y’a text—”
“Harry, the poor girl was sleeping,” his mother admonished. “I told you we could just go out to eat. Love, m’so sorry. I swear some days he was raised in a barn!” She shook her head. “We’ll leave you be.”
“No, no,” she shook her head quickly, the clip clattering from the ends of her hair to the floor. She felt her face warm, once more grateful for the tan skin to hide most of the blush rushing to her cheeks. She opened the door for them to enter and quickly swept the clip into her hands. “Make yourselves at home,” she said, and Harry ushered his mother toward the kitchen and out the back door toward the patio and grill. Gemma walked slower behind her family to give some reassurance to the girl who was struggling to fix her hair in the little entry way mirror.
“M’sorry about both of them in advance,” Gemma whispered. “Harry hasn’t been able to function normally all day and Mum is already in love with you. When you didn’t answer, it was the first coherent thought Mum had about not begging to see you and thus began Harry pacing waiting all of four minutes for your response before he said we could just come over like absolute lunatics.”
Oh God she liked Gemma. “Thank you. I’m so sorry I look like this,” she winced at the image of her reflection. She was all frizz and pillow lines from the couch where she fell asleep.
She snorted. “Please, we interrupted your evening. Your quiet time and relaxation. Don’t worry about it. You look beautiful,” she promised pressing a hand on her arm and headed after her brother and mother.
If she wasn't already--which she was pretty sure she was--Harry’s lovely little family was going to ensure she fell so hopelessly and terribly in love with Harry.
--
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starkskeep · 1 year
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Cregan Stark x Alicent's Daughter HC
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A/N: this is kinda long for a hc but I am trying to make up for not posting anything for two weeks.
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so, you are the 2nd youngest of Alicent's children
younger than Aemond but older than Daeron
you are the only one who looks like Alicent so naturally, you became her favorite from the moment you were born
she did not have to be reminded of Rhaenyra every time she looked at you because you were hers plus you did not have the same tendencies as Helaena. Alicent could raise you to be the perfect noble lady
because you lacked any Targaryen features, Alicent and Otto had to stop the rumors of Rhaenyra's children being bastards. If the King could have a child without Valyrian coloring, so could his heir
your resemblance with Alicent caused Rhaenyra to resent you even more than your other siblings. looking at you reminded her of the friend that she lost to womanhood so Rhaenyra devised a plan to keep you out of her sight and not be reminded of her lost girlhood dreams nor of the betrayal Alicent subjected Rhaenyra to
on one of her rare visits to King's Landing, Rhaenyra went to her father and privately convinced him to wed you to Cregan Stark
Cregan's wife had died giving birth to his son Rickon and he now rarely left the North. Marrying you to him meant that you would be kept far away from the Red Keep, both now and after Rhaenyra took her position as Queen
If Rhaenyra let it be known to Cregan that she was the one who betrothed you to him, he may be even more loyal than the typical "there has never been a Stark who forgot an oath" because it was his father who knelt and not him
so the majority of the court traveled North to Winterfell in order to witness your marriage to the Wolf of Winterfell
Alicent was livid. How dare Rhaenyra take it upon herself to betroth you? It was Alicent's job as your mother to find the best possible match
she would have never given you to a man such as Cregan Stark. a savage who worships the old gods. Alicent had heard how he brutally took back control of Winterfell from his uncle.
you are a princess of the Seven Kingdoms. you are kind and delicate. you deserve more than to be the second wife of a man several years older than you. you deserve more than the same fate that Alicent suffered
though you would never admit it to your mother, you were happy for this match. the North is somewhere that you had never been and despite its reputation, the scenery and summer snows you saw on your journey there from the Red Keep intrigued you
upon your arrival in Winterfell, you were greeted by your future husband and several other Northern lords. your mother was not happy when she saw the blush upon your cheeks when Cregan kissed your hand in greeting. though she was supposed to be happy for you, she had wished that you would be upset with this match and not allow yourself to be corrupted by the Northerner
unfortunately for Alicent, that didn't happy. all it took was your wedding night with Cregan for you to be utterly in love
you are a young girl, and of course, you would be instantly taken with the man who had shown you love and pleasure for the first time. he had heard your hand and made sure you were comfortable with everything he did
needless to say, you and Cregan had a very active marriage from the moment you two awoke the morning after your wedding. it was not uncommon for the servants to skitter past your chambers giggling about the noises coming from behind the door
while the court was still there before their return to King's Landing, Alicent tried everything in her power to scare you away from your husband, thinking she was preventing you from being corrupted. it was not proper for you to constantly be showing up for meals arm-in-arm with your new husband. Cheeks flushed, hair out of place, and your clothes in disarray. plus she was hearing that Cregan had your things moved into his chambers. how were you going to be protected from him if you were being forced to spend every night with him (stop being delusional Alicent? your daughter would throw a fit if Cregan even suggested having separate rooms now that you have had a taste of him)
Cregan loved the glares he received from the Southern nobles. Unlike your siblings who had the looks of the man his ancestors bent the knee to, you had the look of someone he could corrupt
Cregan loved how soft you were. he would grip your hair with one hand and keep his other on your hips when you were together, no matter where you were. he wanted you to look into his eyes as he controlled your movements. he wanted you to know exactly who was making you feel this good and exactly whose children you would be carrying
you are the young and pretty bride that Cregan enjoys corrupting. maybe your mother wasn't that delusional for her worries
a few months after your father's court returned south, a raven made its way from the North. you were officially with child. nothing could separate you from Cregan now
over the years, there would be many more ravens bearing similar news. each time Alicent visited you or you came south, Cregan would give her a wicked grin as if taunting her: "Your daughter is mine now. You lost."
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cheeekycharchar · 9 months
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"Shame and guilt have followed humanity since Adam and Eve disobeyed God in the Garden of Eden."
Good Omens; a story of an Angel that can't accept love because of shame and a Demon that can't accept forgiveness because of guilt.
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"It'd be funny if we both got it wrong, eh? If I did the good thing and you did the bad one."
An in-depth analysis of an Angel suffering from shame and a Demon wracked with guilt.
Let's dive deeper below the cut!
[Now I'm going to lay down a lot of facts, definitions and minimal psychological babble and I want you, as the reader, to view this through your GO nerd glasses. Also, I want to express that I am not a therapist or religious in any way- this was all done as academic research for the fandom's sake cause I can't shut my brain up. I tried to organize it the best I could. ..sorry it's so long but I swear it's worth the read through! ;)]
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• Shame is the painful emotion you have when you perceive that you are not good enough in some way. Entirely self imposed and only known to you, shame can be an unpleasant self-conscious feeling often associated with negative self-evaluation. When shame is chronic, it makes you believe that you are fundamentally flawed, defective, dishonorable, immoral, or improper.
• Guilt is a negative feeling of worry or unhappiness that you get because you have done something wrong. It's a moral emotion that occurs when a person believes or realizes- accurately or not- that they have compromised their own standards of conduct or have violated universal moral standards and bear significant responsibility for it. When guilt is chronic, it can be a toxic emotion that could cause a person to take on unjust responsibility if things around them go wrong. They are quick to accept that everything is their fault even though it isn't.
While guilt is about wrong actions, shame is about being wrong as a person.
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In academic psychology, shame is associated with avoiding failure and its consequences while guilt is connected with forgiving and improving one's self, along with making amends.
Guilt and Shame are often confused for each other but there’s a big difference between the two. Guilt can help you understand how your actions impact others, but shame is an inward-facing emotion that reflects how you feel about yourself. (And I do realize that Aziraphale may, at times, feel guilt and Crowley can also feel a sense of shame. But the main motivation behind majority of their characterizations and actions throughout the series are both coming from these two different feelings.)
Guilt can help you move forward while shame keeps you stuck in the past. [such as the "We could have been.. us." and "You go too fast for me." scenes] And the only way to rid themselves of these negative emotions is through recovery with unconditional love and forgiveness.
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• How Aziraphale represents the concept of shame •
Shame tricks you into believing that you aren't good. That you are worthless. Not that you've done something bad, but that you are bad. Ever since Aziraphale gave away his flaming sword, he started to question himself. But it wasn't until he outright lies to his fellow Angel's about the true fate of Job's children that he truly believes he has fallen- that he violated God's word and lied (again). He believes there must be something truly wrong with who he is as an Angel. He's a flawed creation of God and he feels a dreaded sense of deep shame from this.
Feelings of shame can also present itself in different types such as, Chronic Shame (negative emotions all the time that you aren't good enough), Performance Shame (feeling as though you are inferior compared to others) and Shame from Unrequited Love (this is a feeling of not being good enough for another person T^T).
Shame is a harmful, negative emotion that when internalized enough can result in an overly harsh evaluation of oneself.
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Next, let's take a closer look at what defines shame and how it operates through Aziraphale:
• Being Defensive is a way to avoid taking responsibility for our behavior.
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"I don't need you." "And the feeling is mutual!"
• Perfectionism is the unrealistic desire to be perfect and is often a defense against shame. If we’re perfect, no one can criticize us; no one can shame us. We keep up a front that looks good to the world. We may spend a lot of time attending to our dress and looks.
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"I do have standards."
• Apologizing constantly. Shame can prompt us to be overly apologetic and compliant.
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"I did the 'I was wrong' dance in…"
• Procrastination can occur from a deep hidden shame. If we consider pursuing something and it doesn’t turn out well, we might be paralyzed by that feeling. If we never try, then we don’t have to face possible failure and subsequent shame.
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"You go too fast for me, Crowley.."
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Next are the four category behaviors resulting from shame:
• The Hot Response These are things you do when you feel ashamed and defensive, such as lashing out in anger or attacking the other person to deflect attention from yourself.
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"I don't even like you!" [always resorts to being defensive in any argument]
• Behaviors to Cope With or Conceal the Shame These behaviors include doing things to make yourself feel small, trying to avoid being the center of attention, or not sharing your thoughts or feelings. Concealing yourself is a method of self-protection.
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[always awkward and can't speak openly around other Angels]
• Safety Behaviors to Avoid Shame or Being Discovered This category of shame behaviors might be things like apologizing, crying, or avoiding conflict. People who have a tendency toward being emotional or avoiding conflict may be more likely to engage in safety behaviors.
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"Why? What's wrong? I mean.. if there is something wrong.."
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The Impact of Feeling Shame:
• Makes you feel like you are flawed or there is something wrong with you
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"I'm like you now. A demon. I'm a fallen angel.." • Can lead to social withdrawal
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[spends most of his time in the bookshop alone] • May cause you to become defensive and shame others in return "I'm an angel! And you're a demon!" • May cause you to inflate your ego to hide the belief that you don’t have value
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"Well, I am a great deal holier than thou. That's the whole point." • May leave you feeling empty, lonely, or worn out
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"But I thought you said it wasn't [lonely]?" • May lead to lowered self-esteem
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"I'm.. soft." • May make it harder for you to trust other people
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"Obviously, you're lying. You're a demon. That's what you do." • May lead to perfectionism or overachievement to try and counteract your feelings of shame
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"If I can just reach the right people and resolve all of this-" "That's not going to happen! How could somebody as clever as you be so stupid!?" • May cause you to engage in people pleasing
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"Doing good again, Angel? "Oh, hardly counts. Purely for selfish reasons." • May cause you to avoid talking because you are afraid to say the wrong thing
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[trying to explain to Metatron in S1 without revealing too much] • May cause compulsive or excessive behaviors like overworking, excessive cleaning, or having too high of standards in general
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[non stop research all day and night to look for the antichrist by himself]
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• How Crowley represents the concept of guilt •
Guilt is what you feel after committing a specified or perceived offence/crime/bad action.  It's typically attached to a feeling you experience when you do something wrong on purpose or accidentally and can regret that action. Guilt can be morally ambiguous.
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"Well, maybe there is something to be said for.. shades of grey?" "..Shades of dark grey."
Signs of guilt are unique but these are the most common (again there are many but these I thought related to Crowley the best):
• Low self-esteem
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*sighs* "Don't bother..."
• Excessive attempts at reparation [Crowley always trying to secretly help humanity when he can]
• Being unable to meet someone’s gaze
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[Covering his eyes not only hides his snake eyes but also his guilty feelings]
• Anxiety "We are fucked!" [and we all know TV!Crowley is 100% more anxiety ridden than Book!Crowley is lol]
• Trouble sleeping [Sleeps too long (100 year nap from book). Or can't get comfortable sleeping (from S1 deleted scene)]
• Depressed mood
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"What's even the point.. everything seems.. pointless.."
• Avoidance of people, places, or events linked to the cause of guilt "I'm not going to be joining their team and neither should you!" [doesn't want to return to Heaven or Hell and is "on his own side" to avoid them further] • Shifts in energy levels [can be giddy/jumpy one second to morose/moody the next, etc]
• Emotional outbursts
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"I'm just so angry!"
• Appetite changes
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[took up drinking alcohol even though its unnatural to]
• Making amends [spends every moment since Eden trying to secretly do good despite the hellish consequences]
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Defense mechanisms against feeling guilty can become an overriding aspect of one's personality. (These are also related to trauma response.)
• Displacement is a defensive tool that may take the form of blaming the victim or taking your feelings out on others.
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"You know what you've done. You've disappointed me."
• Projection is sharing the unacceptable feelings/qualities onto others, thereby being less alone with it.
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"But that sounds.." "Lonely?"
• Self-harm may be used as an alternative to compensating from one's past transgression. Not just physical self-harm but not allowing yourself to enjoy opportunities or benefits as a result of uncompensated guilty feelings.
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[always holding himself back for 6k years from saying what he truly feels and won't allow himself to be with Aziraphale the way he really wants]
• Repression is subconsciously blocking or forgetting harmful/traumatic memories. "Right.. looking at where the furniture isn't.." [doesn't remember his time in Heaven in detail- whether from trauma response or just had his memory wiped]
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Behavioral responses to guilt can be associated with the moral of their character. Feelings of guilt can prompt virtuous behavior.
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"You shouldn't test them to destruction.."
People who feel guilty may be more likely to: • Exercise restraint [holds his true feelings back for Aziraphale for centuries]
• Avoid self-indulgence [only really has his car and plants in the end]
• Exhibit less prejudice [is more open and accepting of other's sins - such as helping during the Scottish bodysnatching scenes]
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Guilt can prompt reparatory behaviors (actions to make amends) to help alleviate these negative emotions. People tend to engage in these reparatory behaviors toward the persons they wronged. Some religions theorize that forgiveness of sin (even those committed by accident or ignorance) is exclusively through repentance.
Crowley, being the wily serpent that tempted Eve to eat the forbidden apple of knowledge and subsequently getting her and Adam kicked out of paradise on Earth- and thusly creating the first sin of humanity. Right away, Crowley feels guilt from this.
After all, he was just told to stir up some trouble and had no idea the consequences of his first temptation on the future generations of human existence. Ignorantly doing something considered wrong and getting exiled.. this mistake would forever haunt him. He knows the pain and trauma from unwittingly doing something insignificant and being punished severely for it (such as asking questions or eating an apple) yet he accidentally made the first of God's new creatures "fall" in their own way from Eden. It's because of this guilt that Crowley spends the next 6000 years secretly rebelling against Hell to help humanity in any way he can to redeem himself.
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That's why their first conversation (post Fall from Heaven) on the wall of Eden was SO important to their relationship with each other and themselves.
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"Oh, I do hope I didn't do the wrong thing." "It'd be funny if we both got it wrong. If I did the good thing and you did the bad one." "No. No! It wouldn't be funny at all!"
I think the reason Crowley always seems to be one step ahead of Aziraphale (in more ways than one) is because, in a sense, guilt is easier to resolve from than shame.
If you acknowledge your mistake and the person chooses to take the steps to improve and change for the better, then they can recover from those negative feelings. They can work through the guilt by repairing the transgression or learning from it.
Whereas shame can only intensify inwardly and be harder to face because your mind is telling you that you are the bad thing, that you are the mistake. This makes it harder to overcome. And the only way to truly recover from shame is unconditional love and forgiveness- for yourself.
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“Instead of your shame, you shall have double honor, and instead of confusion, they shall rejoice in their portion. Therefore in their land, they shall possess double; everlasting joy shall be theirs.” (Isaiah 61:7)
And in S2.. we can see they both hold regret for their actions at the end of episode 6. If you look at every choice, ever misstep, every argument and their occasional confusion in understanding one another, you can see how Aziraphale was written with shame as a main part of his personality and Crowley written with guilt.
Two feelings that are often confused for one another but differ slightly in their own ways. The motivation behind every word they utter and every action they make throughout the series is built on the foundation of these two fundamentally negative and often traumatizing feelings.
There is a possibility to recover from shame and guilt and I have a feeling that S3's plot line will be all about recovery.
And that's what the concept of that Second Coming storyline might be all about. The New Testament says, "In Jesus Christ, God took upon Himself the sins of the world and died on the cross to pay mankind's debt" (Rom 6:23). "Those who repent and accept Christ's sacrifice for their sins, will be redeemed by God and thus not guilty before Him. They will be granted eternal life which will take effect after the Second Coming of Christ" (1 Thess 4:13–18).
A second chance. Forgiveness and Recovery from Sin.
And what is the story of Adam and Eve if not about humanity's Original Sin?
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Remember, after all is said and done, the antidote for shame is love, and guilt is cured through forgiveness.
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Two things a certain Angel and Demon struggle with accepting from each other but are more than willing to give to one another.
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[…There! I made myself sad again, lol. Thank you for reading this far! Sorry it was crazy long but I really enjoyed putting this all together into semi-comprehensible words (though stupid tumblr made me delete a bunch of pictures I had as examples…). Also, on a final side note- if you are ever experiencing overwhelming shame or guilt in anyway (which can result in depression or worse if not dealt with) please make sure you reach out to someone or seek professional help in some way. Take care, everyone! ^-^]
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sinner-sunflower · 3 months
Text
A HH Lucifer-centric AU 18/?
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22
I've really debated whether or not I'll post this particular part today or do another mystery and have it revealed in a flashback or something.
But then I said nah I'll give it now so you all can enjoy!
Very dialogue heavy.
I appreciate again your reblogs, likes, and very especially, your comments. Something about seeing your reactions or theories motivates me even more. Nothing says writer's pleasure like the suffering of their readers <3
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Once upon a time, all Lucifer wanted was to create and be happy. To love and be loved just the same. Being the Angel of Creation and Humility, his Father often sought his counsel regarding the first creations. He was affectionately called 'my Morning Star' by his Father, reminding him that he will be the first light His creations shall see.
When tasked with guarding the Garden, he embraced that duty wholeheartedly. But with Adam's growing ego and Lilith's festering defiance, he could feel himself struggling. He had tried so hard to make it comfortable for the both of them but it was never enough. The only reason Lilith stayed in the Garden for as long as she did was because Lucifer refused to leave right away.
Lucifer: It's my duty, Lily!
That's what he had said. He loved Lilith but he was still very much afraid of what repercussions his Father may give for his disobedience.
Then comes Eve.
Eve was a lovely girl. She's Lilith but softer. She's Adam but kinder. But she has no free will. Adam treated her like a maid and she took it all with a graceful smile.
And well, you know what happened next.
An apple. A sin. A trial. A fall. Darkness. Fire. He wants to get outOUTOUTOUTOUT!-
A makeshift table with 2 chairs appear in between him and Roo. The Root of All Evil moves to sit and motions for him to join her. Lucifer hesitates but follows.
Roo: See, dear fallen, your old man damaged me enough that I can't get my original form to heal like it was before. And just when I was recuperating my power, you and your sinful lot sealed me! Low blow, by the way. Thanks yo you, my vessel is truly destroyed.
Lucifer: That's why you take on these forms?
Roo: Yoou got it! I can show you what I originally looked like but it's merely confined in this space. Like every caged animal, I crave freedom. Freedom I am not willing to have without a proper vessel.
She giggles as Lucifer's expression dawns in realization.
Lucifer: You... want me? As your vessel?
Roo: Yup!
Lucifer: But- Why?
Roo: Consider it an investment! Why, I can't think of anyone better to powerful enough to control Hell and dear enough to hold against Heaven.
It was Lucifer's turn to scoff.
Lucifer: Hold against Heaven? I don't have any value to the people up there. I am no longer an angel?
Roo had to put a hand in her mouth to prevent her from laughing too much again.
Roo: Naive, little fallen. You really think that?
Lucifer: I know that! Or did you forget that I was exiled into this god awful pit?!
Roo: Ah. But that's all, isn't it?
Lucifer: I- huh?
Roo: Your angelic status is all that they took from you, no? And this place is merely a change of office. You still answer to Heaven, whether you admit it or not. You still watch over humanity, albeit the worst ones. And most importantly, you were not stripped of your heavenly powers. You know why? Because you-
She boops his forehead and it took all of his willpower not to bite her finger off.
Roo: -are God's little favorite.
Lucifer: That's not true.
Roo: Yes it is. Tell me, Lucifer. If God was to punish you for the greatest Sin ever committed, why leave you with power to rule it? If that was you, wouldn't you take away all of their being and leave them to rot in the very bottom of the grave they dug themselves? Why would I cast them out them make them rule it? That's just absurd.
Lucifer: You're speaking nonsense.
Roo: Am I? The old man obviously loved you enough to let you keep your divine powers. He probably could not stand the thought of His beloved son suffering at the hands of some lowly human souls.
The Sin of Pride wants to rebuke but can't get the words out. He always did wonder why he still had his wings, why he could still create, why he was made the King.
'Was it really your love, Father?'
He shakes his head and leaves that thought. He may not be at the bottom of the food chain, that doesn't change the fact that he did not, is not suffering.
Lucifer: And you think saying all that will make me give your reign on my body?
Roo: Of course not! But you asked and I gave my answer.
Lucifer: And what happens if I say yes?
Roo: Not a matter of if, fallen. I know you will.
Lucifer: I need you to be more specific.
Roo: Insurance. We already established that you do not have anything else to trap me with and I'd be more than happy to consume all of Hell. It will be a nice snack before my comeback. So, really, what other choice do you have?
Lucifer: I am not just going to let you use my body to get out of here and destroy Hell another way!
Roo: Woah! Who said I'll be destroying Hell? I just want a vessel so I can explore! Plus, as soon as I enter your body, your little Ring would be back to normal.
She produces a golden contract out of the blue and lays it down for Lucifer to see.
Roo: So, let's make a deal.
Lucifer: No.
Roo: Hush. Let me finish. I get my vessel and I won't touch a single thing in Hell anymore. Your body will act as my new "container" by which, until your demise, will remain yours.
Wait.
Lucifer: What? My demise?
Roo: Yup!
Lucifer: I'm immortal. If we go through with this, you'll never see the light of day again.
This is too good to be true. Not only will Roo be sealed for good but then Hell will safe. So why-
Roo: Then what's the fuss? You trap me forever and with you being immortal, won't even have to think about the other end of the bargain. Fun, right?!
Lucifer: No. What are you not telling me? Why after my 'death'? Is something going to happen that will permanently kill me?
She just gave him a menacing smiles.
Roo: Time is relevant, fallen. There will always be slips and an ancient being like myself, I'm bound to see something in between.
Lucifer: Quit being cryptic!
He is at his wits end. The longer he stays here the worse it gets outside!
Roo: Let me put down the basics of this offer then: I get my vessel and I'll stop this little party trick of mine. I will reside inside you until your 'hypothetical death' by which I'll claim all your being, powers and all. I'll even throw in a sweet deal of letting you keep your soul or have you give it to whoever you wish.
Lucifer: .....
Lucifer: I want to add conditions.
Roo: Be my guest~
Lucifer: In the aftermath of my death, you will do everything in your power to protect Hell and its people against anyone or anything that puts it in danger as long as you reside in my body. That means I also prevent you from leaving this vessel for another to get out of that clause.
Roo: Wonderful-
Lucifer: Hold on. I'm not done. Since you said that you do not wish to have property of my soul, you are to give it to Charlotte Morningstar. She will also ascend as acting ruler of Hell upon my death, not you. But you get to keep being the most powerful demon in Hell.
Roo: Hmmm. Sounds fair. I like those odds, my friend. So-
Roo holds out her glowing red hand. She no longer wore Charlie's face but instead she is now a blob of shadows and eyes. Lucifer has to narrow his eyes to prevent him from being blinded.
Roo: It's a deal then?
Lucifer can already feel Roo's energy inching inside him
Lucifer: Deal.
A handshake. A drop of blood. And a binding contract.
The game is set.
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Holy shit?? This was so long??
Fun fact: this was one of the scenes I wanted to do in my first AU post, the radioapple one with Lilith and Eve. But this is more fitting here now.
ENJOYYY
please leave what you think!
If there are some changes then it's me proofreading it after posting a;sdkla
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qqueenofhades · 6 months
Note
May I ask for new year’s eve Dreamling watching the ball drop because Hob celebrates every year, Morpheus isn’t the sort of person who cares at all, but Hob forces him to celebrate and wear the dumb paper glasses and stuff anyway
"Hob," Dream says, not for the first time, in a deeply pained tone. "I simply do not see why this rigmarole is necessary."
"It's necessary because I say it's necessary, you joyless git." Hob dulls the sting by leaning over to plant a kiss on Dream's cheek, adjust the 2024 cardboard glitter crown from Tesco that is perched atop the dread dark head of the immortal King of Dreams and Nightmares, and throw an arm over his shoulders -- all of which Dream suffers with the tense, bristled wariness of a cat suddenly subjected to excessive snuggling. "Plus, there's going to be a general election this year -- fucking finally -- and the Tories are going to get thrown out on their kleptocratic arses. Good as any reason to celebrate, if you ask me."
Morpheus mutters something under his breath that Hob can't understand but doesn't sound particularly complimentary, but for once in his eternal-ageless-stubborn-bastard life, decides not to press the point. He's already been horribly traumatized by enduring the New Year's Eve party and being forced to socialize with Hob's friends from around London and the South East and colleagues from Goldsmiths and all the other strays he's picked up over the years (indeed, very much like Dream himself). All right, socialize might be a stretch. More like lurking ominously with a single glass of prosecco and giving the other guests a fright when they come round the corner too fast, but at least he hasn't run screaming into the night or huffily evaporated into the Dreaming never to return, so Hob is going to optimistically count that as a success. Besides, it is tacitly agreed between the two of them that Hob's love language is cheerily bullying Morpheus into taking part in normal human courtship activities and Morpheus's concession is to act like this is the worst thing to ever happen to him in literally eighty billion years, but still grudgingly put up with it. Baby steps, Hob thinks, taking a swig of his own bubbly and looking back at the television. Baby steps.
It's already the New Year in Oz and the rest of Down Under, and five hours off yet in New York, where they're still greasing up the ball drop in Times Square, but it's just about time in London, the fireworks over the Thames are all set to go, and Hob and the ten other people in his flat (hardly an excessive number, not that you'd know it from Morpheus's face) lean forward in eagerness. The bloke on the BBC leads a countdown, it rolls over to 00:00:01 GMT, 1 January 2024, and everyone lets out a boozy cheer, raising glasses to salute each other and making more please-God-help-us jokes about the Tories. Hob, meanwhile, turns to Morpheus, who gazes expectantly back at him with those luminous, star-flecked eyes, and leans in to kiss him -- quickly, chastely, nothing to make the silly goose come over in his melodramatic conniptions all over again. "Happy new year, darling."
Dream huffs, but he does look slightly pleased. (It's a subtle art, reading his expressions, and to the untutored looks no different from "mildly constipated," but Hob still knows his Stranger well.) "Happy new year, Hob Gadling," he allows, after a long moment. "I still do not understand why you feel it necessary to celebrate all this. Have you not seen so many that it is no longer special?"
"See, that's exactly why." Hob should get up and refill the pigs-in-blankets tray, as there is evidently nothing that British academics love more and it has been descended on like starving vultures, but he doesn't feel like it, not yet. He grins at Morpheus instead, lowering his voice, not that there's much risk of anyone overhearing. "A bloke born all the way back in God's Year 1356, and I'm still here, ringing in the fucking year 2024? That's a bloody miracle, you ask me. And with you, no less? What else would I want in the whole world?"
Dream's expression melts a little, despite himself. A faint pink flush climbs into his elegant ice-sculpted cheeks, and he huffs. "You are quite the flatterer, Robert Gadling."
"Eh." Hob takes a more comfortable position, settles deeper into the couch cushions, and feels, with great vindication, Dream's head tip and lean and rest on his shoulder, snuggling closer entirely of his own volition. "You love it."
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cupids-chamber · 1 year
Text
CELEBRATING NEW YEARS WITH THEM + NEW YEARS EVE! RSA + DIASOMNIA
GENDER NEUTRAL READER A/N: Enjoy my contribution to new years. Also all stories, and most characters part is connected somehow.. read all parts to get a few extra info.. you don't have to though! Slight spoilers in the first headcanon for Lilia, so skip over the first sentence!
POMEFIORE + HEARTSLABYL + IGNIHYDE / SCARABIA + OCTAVINELLE + SAVANACLAW / RSA + DIASOMNIA /
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A new year was nothing exceptional to the fae, as he lived through many years with his long live span... He didn't find the mark of a new year worth celebrating.. that was before you convinced him of course.. You had convinced the young fae King to throw a party.. to mark the start of a new year.. You had rarely asked for anything since your marriage.. So, he couldn't help but agree... Had you known that Malleus would have interpreted your wish in such a grandiose way, you may have gone back and asked him to rethink your decision, for your lover not only held a banquet so grand, it could be on par to a wedding.. all of the kingdom's nobles and some of your friends will be attending as well.
He didn't bother batting an eye on the expense, as he wished for your happiness above all else, had he known you wanted a simpler event with only your immediate friends and comrades, he would have reconsidered his rather excessive decisions but what could you do.. your lover went this far just to make you happy.. you couldn't help but find the action quite.. cute..
The event was quite exhausting, but you spent the day with your friends, and greeting some guests and generally trying your best to enjoy the event as it was.. though you did get in quite the trouble.. when Lilia had convinced you to participate in a drinking game.. You didn't know how many drinks you had by now. All you knew is that you had to beat Lilia, your pride was on the line here! It wasn't until Malleus took notice of your excessive drinking, that you stopped and everything after that was a blur in your memories..
The next morning you woke up with the excessive hangover.. And whenever you approached Malleus he got quite flustered.. 'What the hell did I do last night?...'
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Lilia was quite shocked when he had gotten the invitation, all the way here in the the land he had chosen to retire in. He figured if he were to go, he should go with you.. I mean the two of you were bound to go together anyways, it just took a little convincing for him to make you step out of the comfort of your home and to the palace, but then again, the sly fae has almost always gotten his way regarding such events. You had expected the journey to take long, yet the trip went by unbelievably fast.. Needless to say you were grateful you didn't suffer from motion sickness...
When the two of you arrived at the banquet, it was fairly crowded.. and somewhere along the lines your partner had left you, telling you to enjoy it here 'that sly bastar—' before you could finish your thought someone had asked you to join your table.. unexpectedly It was one of your old friends! The two of you began talking and an hour passed, when suddenly you noticed how the crowd gathered elsewhere.. being the person you were, you didn't pay it much care.. until of course you realized it was Lilia.. up to his old man antic's again.. He apparently challenged the ever so competitive monarch to a drinking battle! And.. the King had to carry them out, while they struggled in his grasp.
"Lilia what did you do?" you asked the ex-general, as he gave you a sly grin. "Don't look at me like that and answer the questi— oh." he continued grinning, as you started putting the puzzles together.. "You know whatever your planning is not gonna end well right...?" he simply nodded.. Later on you found out the two of you will be spending the night in the castle as well.. Maybe you should rethink the idea of dating an ex-general who's this rash with decisions..
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Silver hadn't expected to get and invitation out of nowhere during his break, his original plan was to spend the entire break with you, under warm blankets, eating snacks and whatnot while watching your favorite shows on Twistflex.. it wasn't anything exceptional.. yet the that's how the two of you spend Christmas together, and enjoyed it.. if you were honest Silver was such a sweetheart, the two of you spend a lot of time gathering ingredients and going shopping together.. And according to your schedule, right after celebrating new years as a couple, the two of your would go visit his father. Yet now everything had changed, as the king was throwing a party for the New year, something rather unexpected, but who were you both to deny.. after all you could do your plans another day as well! After all, you guys spent every moment you could together, being partially inseparable..
The two of you got dressed, taking your time to go to the banquet, knowing fairly well, the earlier you leave the more the traffic will be.. after all it was a invitation to the king's palace.. everyone would want to go early, and expect traffic to be fast if they left earlier.. that and you and Silver slept in and almost forgot about the invitation entirely, but then Silver got a call from Lilia and he remembered that their was an event the two of you should be attending..
The two of you made your way inside.. only to discover his dad's little 'prank' he calls it.. the two of you just got there, and began rethinking your choices.. maybe saying you two were out of town was a better idea then coming here.. Even so, the two of you enjoyed the meeting, catching up with friends... and etc.. The two of you enjoyed the day, even after whatever the hell Lilia did... since no one would tell you two.. what had fully happened.. that was until you two were on your way back home, and overheard Sebek ranting to his partner about Lilia's actions.. The two of you stared at each other dumbfounded, before letting out a laugh.. Something that Sebek didn't notice, but his partner surely did, giving the two of you a light wave. The two of you waved back, acknowledging their presence, before making your way back home.. Hopefully, the rest of the night could go well and you could continue the plans you had made previously, instead of falling asleep.
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It took a lot of convincing to get Sebek to take a break.. but Malleus forced both him and Silver to take a couple weeks off.. He was more than capable of protecting himself.. But Sebek.. is well uhh.. Sebek! The two of your Christmas went surprisingly well, as Sebek was fairly cooperative for someone who didn't plan on taking a break.. The two of you even had plans of travelling out of town for new years.. So as far as you both were concerned.. you two hadn't planned anything for new years.. That was when you two received an last minute invitation to the king's banquet..
Usually Sebek would've rushed to the banquet, yet this time around your partner took his sweet long time.. something unexpected, yet pleasing nonetheless.. The two of you finally left for the banquet an hour into the party.. And when you got there another 30 minutes had passed.. And the sight was truly one to behold. Lilia drinking along with Malleus's beloved spouse, the two were chugging down glasses. And you could've sworn Lilia's fiancé lost a bit of their life force upon seeing the dreadful sight.... as for your boyfriend.. he froze in his spot. He didn't move.. 'was he even breathing?—' you thought, slightly concerned for the health of your lover.. He was loud but lovable nonetheless!
Sebek didn't recover from his shock for the rest of the night.. and you couldn't do much about the scenario- as your friends quickly dragged you away, separating you from the half fae. Your friends questioned what took you so long... and etc.. all of you caught up on missed times, planning to visit each other later.
Only when you planned on leaving did Sebek return to his senses, he seemed on edge throughout the banquet.. He started ranting, in a loud tone.. You prompted him to quiet down, hoping no one noticed.. Someone did however, but thankfully it was his friend Silver and his partner.. you waved at the couple who seemed to be getting ready for their departure in quiet the rush.. "Sebek calm down!"
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Che'nya was invited to his friend Trey's new years party, and he dragged you along.. Sure it took some convincing, since you preferred to stay at home away from crowds.. But one look at those adorable cat eyes, as he pleaded with you.. and you knew you were doomed.. Hey.. at least Trey makes tasty treats, it's not all that bad.. The two of you arrived pretty early on.. and you quickly got dragged into their events that had been planned before you arrived.. "Ok 21 questions.. or whatever—" they slurred slightly on their words, obviously a bit tipsy, "We ask questions to whoever the bottle lands on and they take a drink if they can't answer" you assume that they had lost a few rounds before, and that's why they're so tipsy... "I don't think this is how we play this game.." you mumbled to your boyfriend, who chuckled and urged you to play along with their whims.. after all it's not always the two of you go to such events.. 'That's a lie, he forces you to go to all his friends events because he likes seeing you interact with others'..
You sat at the corner of the couch, beside your fiancé.. hoping to avoid the bottle at all times possible.. but to your luck it lands on you! Outrageous! "Ok, Y/n..." you could've sworn you saw an evil glint in Trey and his spouse's eyes, as if they've been waiting for this very moment.. maybe that's why Riddle was so drunk in such a short spam of time... You began to understand Riddle more, as you reached your fifth shot.. everyone making use of those 21 questions to learn more about how you and Che'nya had ended up dating... and why you didn't tell them about your engagement sooner... This must've been their revenge for the late announcement you thought, as you felt the 6th shot sink straight into your stomach... You glared at Che'nya when your round was finished, he seemed to have enjoyed your torture quite the bit.. "I nominate Che'nya for this round" you said aloud with a burst of confidence, it was probably the alcohol.. but no one was going to complain.. they could mess with you two a bit more!
By the end of it the two of you were rather tipsy.. the last thing you could remember was you and Che'nya making it a goal to finish this pie.. of some kind.. It was a bet you made with... er... Cater!! Your mind went blurry from there.. you probably fell asleep.. as the next time you woke up you were back at home.. with the most horrible of hangovers.. "Screw you Che'nya—" you muttered underneath your breath, as Che'nya chirped in from no where.. "Hey! What did I do?!"
'This wretched, lovable cat!—"
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Neige had attended Vil's party.. which you were more than sure was just for appearances.. You sometimes wondered how naive your lover could be for attending such an event, even after he knew of Vil's blatant hatred towards him.. that's if he realized such a thing.. He considered the two of them as friends.. which you heavily doubted was a mutual feeling... The two of you had separated pretty early on in the party, and you choose to stay out of getting to close to any journalist or popular news company ceo's.. Like the founder of Fairy news or the leading chairmen of Twistfeed.. You were sure had you met them, they'd ask for an interview.. after all many were curious about your relationship with Neige..
The two of you had recently publicly confirmed your relationship.. And had been together for about an year and a half.. the two of you remained fairly private in terms of your relationship, as the media was quite intrusive to celebrity couples, and you had seen it first hand with your fellow co-stars.. But enough of that! It was new years.. As you skimmed through the sheer selection in accommodations, you couldn't help but turn starry-eyed at the sight.. and that was when your lover began dragging you out of the area without an explanation.. he seemed mad... Extremely pissed.. which was something quite unlike your beloved sweetheart. You choose not to ask for an explanation when he said "we have to go".. something happened and he obviously weren't in the mood to explain..
You knew for a fact, that if any journalists were there.. which they most definitely were.. this would make it to the new's tomorrow morning.. yet you didn't mind.. valuing your lovers emotions over image.. the next morning went by normally, and when you brought up the previous nights incident, Neige paused...
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randomshyperson · 1 year
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New Romantics - Chapter One - Wanda Maximoff Series
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Summary: Trapped in a loveless relationship that has cost her friendships, Wanda watches her senior year of school turn upside down after a party. She will make new friends and may end up learning that not every relationship is doomed to failure.
Warnings: (+16), straight and toxic relationships, making out, underage drinking, language, co-dependency, conversations about insecurity and self-worth, attempted romantic comedy, unrequited love at first, friends to lovers. | Words: 4.236k
Skamverse Collection | Series Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |
--//--
Chapter One - Parties and Makeups
“The global mentality is moving toward free world trade and increased market liberalism. A world full of opportunities. A world where dreams can come true. It sounds fantastic, and it is fantastic. For a very small percentage of us. But for the vast, poor majority, the capitalist system only means one thing: death and suffering. While we live out our days thoughtlessly and stuff ourselves with cheap food. The poor people of the earth struggle in factories. Wages are forced down to the minimum, while the work hours keep increasing. Unionization is illegal, and the working conditions are intolerable. Before applauding freedom, we must remember one thing: Our over-consuming society stands on the shoulders of the coffee beans from Peru. We gorge on cheap food produced by underpaid children hands from India[...]”
Novi Grad, Monday, 1:00 pm.
"So what do you think?"
Wanda licked her lips, trying to choose the right words to define the monologue her boyfriend has been reading the last few minutes. Vision stares at her in anticipation.
"It's smart." She says, and he gives a soft laugh.
"Is that all? Don't you think I should change something?"
She sighs, shrugging. "I don't know, it's just good." She murmurs, thinking for a moment before adding. "Maybe exclude cheap food? You used it twice..."
Vision leans over to look at the paper. "No, you see, because that's a technique to emphasize the idea I picked up..."
Wanda stopped listening - Yes, she hated doing it, especially at how often it happened. But her attention was diverted to the other side of the courtyard, where a group of girls was leaving the school building. Most of them didn't notice that Wanda was watching, but one of them did. Eve, once she realized it, assumed an icy expression that made Wanda's stomach churn. The girl next to her was Jean Grey, and as soon as she followed her friend's gaze, she raised her middle finger in Wanda's direction before continuing walking.
Wanda swallowed dryly and looked away. Vision cleared his throat, waving in front of his girlfriend's eyes to attract her attention.
"Hey, don't let that get to you." He tried, leaning in to peck her cheek. "Okay?"
"Forget about it." Wanda forced a smile, kissing him. Vision smiled, enjoying the closure of the subject much more than she did since the one who had to deal with the free hatred was not him. The boy pulled away a little to take a breath before deepening the kiss, but a sheet of paper was placed between their faces and caused them both to jump away.
"No more making out my sister." It was Pietro, shoving the test in their faces. He wasn't alone, Clint Barton was with him, and he was the first to greet Vision. Pietro leaned on the railing behind where they were standing, "How did you go in the Geography assignment?"
Clint greeted Wanda with a kiss on the cheek, and Vision answered the older twin with a proud smile, "I got an A+."
"Typical." Pietro retorted chuckling. "What about you, sestra?"
Wanda sighs, gripping the handle of her backpack tighter as if the crumpled test at the bottom was going to jump out and give away her lie. "Hmm, I got a C minus."
The trio made sounds of trouble, and Wanda rolled her eyes. Pietro gave a little chuckle. "Papa will be so disappointed..." He teased, receiving an impatient sigh in return.
"What about you? Did you get an A?" She inquired. Pietro chuckled.
"No, but I'm an athlete." He reasoned. "I don't need the brains when I have the muscles." The boys thought it was funny but Wanda rolled her eyes at the foolishness.
"Okay, Pietro, keep believing that one."
"Better than having neither..." He teased low, and Clint pulled him out of the range when Wanda threatened to push him into the railing. Vision laughed, holding his girlfriend by the waist.
"We're going to Barton, see you later?" Vision announces, and she takes her attention from her brother who walked a few feet with Clint to the boy in front of her.
"I thought you were going over to my place."
Vision shrugs. "I went to your house yesterday, Wanda. And the day before, and before, and before..."
"I get it." She cuts in with a clumsy laugh. She kisses him quickly. "Call me later?"
He smiles, nodding before kissing her intensely. Pietro gets in the way again, asking him to hurry up. Vision leaves with the boys, and Wanda stands at the school entrance, alone for a few minutes even after they have turned the corner.
Novi Grad, Monday, 8:00 pm.
"Don't forget to feed little Chaos, that stinky cat." 
Wanda smiled at her father's message, typing that she had already done so before turning her face to the other side of the bed, where an orange cat was sleeping heavily. She reached out, and scratched him behind the ears, receiving a purr in return.
"Papa is being mean, you smell good, Chaos." She says to the kitten, who doesn't wake up. Then sounds of door and keys ring out in the apartment, and Wanda leaves her cell phone on the mattress before getting up and leaving the bedroom.
Pietro is dropping off his shoes in the doorway. "Hey, good evening. Is Papa home yet?"
She denies it, hands in her sweatshirt pockets. "Double shift. Were you at Barton until now?"
The boy chuckled shortly, letting his jacket hang down and turning his back to go to the kitchen. "Ne (no), I left hours ago."
Wanda frowned, the image of Vision chatting messages and unanswered calls in her head. "Vis left too? I tried calling him..."
"I don't babysit your boyfriend, Wanda." Pietro cuts her off from the refrigerator door, and she swallows dryly ready to leave the kitchen. He regrets his aggressiveness and sighs. "I left early because Crystal wanted to talk. Or rather, fight. I'm sorry for taking it out on you."
Wanda shakes her head. "No problem. Are you guys okay?"
Pietro takes out the dinner saved for him to heat up in the microwave, shrugging. "She dumped me for the ninth time, but she didn't throw anything at me this time so I'd say that was progress."
Wanda sighs. "What was the problem now?"
He chuckles, rolling his eyes. "I don't know, she saw me talking to the new girl at school and thought I was being too nice. She's as hot as she is crazy."
"Don't be sexist Pietro, it doesn't make you any cooler." Wanda retorts turning her back on him, and the twin rolls his eyes again, focusing on dinner.
Wanda returns to her room, and Chaos is stretching out on her bed. He's lying on top of her cell phone now, and she has to push him slightly to get the device. She tries to call, but Vision doesn't answer like all the other times.
Before she can go back to watching the paused video classes on her laptop, there is someone on her porch.
Wanda rushes over to help her boyfriend get inside.
"Weird, it seems to have gotten harder to do that." He comments on the small tear in his jeans made by the railing and Wanda laughs lightly.
"Maybe you just need to exercise more." She teases, making him chuckle. He kisses her, pushing his way inside, but Wanda pulls away with the excuse that she is helping him take off his backpack and jacket. When he sits down on the bed to pet Chaos before kicking the cat out of the room, Wanda asks. "Where were you?"
Vision begins removing his shoes. "At Barton's."
"Until so late?"
The boy lets out a confused laugh, raising an eyebrow at her. "You know his mother is never home to care. Pretty much like your daddy..."
"I tried calling you." She insists. 
He sighs wearily. "My cell phone died."
"Clint didn't have a charger?"
Vision laughs. "No, Wanda, he couldn't find it or whatever. What's this, huh? Some kind of interrogation?"
She swallows dryly, looking away, "No, I just... I was worried."
"Well, don't be, I'm right here." He retorts with a smile. "And you, well, you're quite far away..."
She laughs shortly, moving closer to sit on his lap. He is the one who initiates the kiss, and she cuts him off when she is starting to get out of breath. "Let me get the door." She gasps as she gets up, and Vision just nods.
But when Wanda returns, he notices the study items next to the laptop on the bed, and there is a test with a red note in his hands, and a little smile on his face. "I thought you said you got a C minus, Miss."
Wanda snatched the paper from his hand with rosy cheeks to the red F who seemed to mock her as much as her boyfriend. "Shut up." She says, and he gives up tormenting her when she kisses him again.
Novi Grad, Wednesday, 9:30 am.
"Hey, Wanda." 
The greeting comes accompanied by a tap on the shoulder because the brunette is wearing headphones. Wanda pulls out both items at once, looking at her colleague, Darcy Lewis, with curiosity.
"Hi, Darcy, good morning."
The one with glasses smiles. "Are you going to the welcome party on Friday? You didn't confirm the invitation on Facebook, and Jane is being a bit uptight about the organization. She and Thor are taking care of the drinks." Wanda superficially recognized the names mentioned, they were popular people at school, but they were not her friends. She looked at the book - Dracula - in her lap for a second before turning back to Darcy.
"I don't know, I'll probably..."
"What, be reading on a Friday night?" The girl interrupts with teasing, but not mean smile. "You know, I have nothing against interesting habits, but the welcome party is the first opportunity to meet new friends at the very beginning of the year. This, and also to show the spirit of solidarity with the new freshmen who will fund our graduation. It’s important they know who you are, even if you have chosen to adopt the position of the emo geek of this school. Right?”
Wanda hesitates, half unsure of what to say about the whole thing. Before she can think how to respond, Jane - who was addressing other tables in the study area - approaches Darcy.
"Can you believe Thor told me that Loki just texted that he's taking some friends? What part of Students only did he not understand? The principal won't be happy to hear that they had strangers at the party." Jane blurts out angrily, offering a forced smile of greeting to Wanda before returning to typing on her cell phone. Darcy clears her throat.
"The end of the world really." Murmurs the one with the glasses. "See you Friday, Maximoff?"
"I think so." Wanda retorts, and Darcy smiles, offering her a wink before leaving with her friend.
Wanda doesn't have much time to get back to reading in peace. The class bell soon rings, and she has to collect her unfinished book to get to the next class.
Novi Grad, Wednesday, 5:41 pm.
Watching Vision play soccer with his friends is never fun, but Wanda doesn't complain anyway.
She busies herself with her book, finding it definitely more interesting than watching the boys, and it is only at the first break that Vision interrupts her.
She complains about the kiss because he is sweaty.
"You look pretty when you're focused, you know that?" he compliments, hands resting at her side. She twitches her nose.
"Am I not pretty at other times?"
He chuckles. "Don't be silly, being pretty is your greatest talent." He retorts, and she forces a smile, trying not to look bothered by the phrase. He doesn't notice, moving away to get a bottle of water. 
The soccer field is not empty, but Wanda doesn't know the kids there besides Clint, and her twin obviously. She has seen some of them, but they were Vis's friends and not hers. So she has a big empty space around her in the stands.
Stealing glances at the surrounding groups of friends and couples, Wanda sighs before turning her gaze back to her boyfriend.
"Vis, will you go with me to the school welcome party?"
He makes a confused face, finishing a large sip of water before retorting, "That cheesy thing? Why do you even want to go to that, we've never attended it before."
She frowns softly. "It's not cheesy. It's important that the freshmen get to know us now, they are responsible for over half of the fundraising for the graduation trip-"
"Didn't your father say he was going to pay for yours?" He interrupts her with a raised eyebrow. 
Wanda sighs. "Yes, but I'm not going to think only of myself-"
"I have money too." He cuts in again shrugging. "Clint works, Pietro is your brother so he's insured too. You don't have to care about a dumb party full of brats, Wanda." He mocks with a chuckle, leaning in to kiss her, but Wanda turns her face away. Vis doesn't notice, distracted by the boys rushing him to get back to playing, and Wanda sighs at the thought that he almost never notices anything that bothers her. 
"I just think it would be nice to meet new people." She murmurs, and he sighs, looking down at the field and nodding that he's going already.
"Well, I guess we could drop in for a few hours, free booze is a nice thing..." He suggests, and her face immediately lights up. Vis extends a hand to her strands of hair. "But you have to do something for me."
She frowns. "What?" 
"Can my brother spend Easter with us?"
Wanda's excited expression drops. "Seriously? Can I bring mine?" She retorts wryly and angrily, closing the book. Vision sighs helplessly.
"Baby, come on..." She rolls her eyes, starting to put things away. "Hey, I know I said I didn't want anyone bothering us, but Dad grounded Tony and I don't want to leave him alone for the whole holiday..."
"If Tony would stop screwing up he wouldn't be grounded." Wanda retorts now standing up, with her backpack in her hands. Vision chuckles, making puppy dog eyes at her. 
"Please, darling. A party for a party." He negotiates, and she rolls her eyes.
"Okay, fine." She agrees, and he grins, grabbing her by the waist to spin her in the air despite her protests. With the delay, Clint approaches them, just as sweaty as his friend.
"Come on man, you two can hook up after the game." Says the boy, busy with the water as Vision lets go of Wanda with little grace, who pulls down the hem of her skirt with her cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment. 
"I'm celebrating, Wanda has agreed to let Tony spend Easter at her family Cabin." Vision tells. Wanda wryly chuckles:
"Maybe you'd like to come too, it seems the holiday for two has turned into a holiday for everyone." 
Clint chuckles, wiping his mouth before commenting, "How did he convince you, Maximoff?"
She sighs. "He's taking me to the welcoming party on Friday." She says, and Vision shrugs, but Clint frowns.
"Friday? Don't you have that fancy dinner with your dad and the uni people? You haven't shut up about it for months." Clint recalls and Vision puts his hand to his head. 
"Oh, shit, it's true. Baby, I completely forgot..."
"Whatever." She says wearily with her hands in the air lightly. "See you tomorrow, Clint." He said leaving, and Vision patted the back of his friend's head before following his girlfriend.
Novi Grad, Friday, 07:12 pm.
"I'm already at the restaurant, good thing I wore a suit. Try to go to the party, it will be good for you." 
Wanda reread the message for the ninth time, trying to understand what in the last sentence bothered her so much. She sighed, looking at the little Chaos adjusting himself on her bed.
"What do you think, buddy? Do you think I should go to a stupid party?" She asks the cat, who doesn't even meow back. 
Wanda risks checking Instagram, only to be bombarded with pictures in her feed about the school party, which grew in popularity apparently because Loki wasn't the only one who took other than students.
She glanced around her messy room, and at the paused sitcom on her laptop. The Addams Family was not being efficient in distracting her tonight. Vision was at a dinner party with her father's contacts from Europe's top universities, Pietro was sleeping over at Crystal's because they got back together the day before, and Clint was supposed to be working. And there were no other friends.
Wanda forced herself to her feet. She could do this. New friends at a party, right? It shouldn't be that hard.
She got ready in record time and changed from her comfortable sweatshirt into a wine-colored cotton dress. Maybe it didn't scream friendly energy, but it definitely made her look pretty. 
Chaos meowed at her when she stood in front of the mirror, and Wanda thought she was good to go. She texted to Vision that she was going to have fun knowing he wasn't going to answer tonight before she left.
Novi Grad, Friday, 08:40 pm.
Music from the loudspeakers echoed throughout the room. The welcoming committee did a good job, because they had booked the whole night at the Panther Club, two blocks away from the school, and the place was completely full.
Wanda managed to get in at the ticket booth with her school ID and was given a different wristband for being of legal age. She imagined that this would guarantee alcoholic drinks for her inside the bar, but she doubted very much that anyone was respecting these rules of the amount of drunk freshmen around.
She was trying to have a good time. She didn't rely too much on the colorful drink that the bartender said was alcohol-free and decided to enjoy the Club's trademark live music show.
It wasn't exactly her idea of fun, being around hundreds of drunken teenagers, but Wanda tried to ignore the discomfort of her own boots to dance a little. 
It was not a good idea.
She returned to the bar area after three songs way too long for the good health of her toes and was considering leaving when she recognized the red-haired figure only a few feet away.
Jean was waiting for her drink, and saw Wanda out of the corner of her eye, assuming a defensive posture.
"Hi." Wanda greeted, receiving only an icy stare in return before the redhead looked forward again. Wanda sighed, "Jean, please. You can't ignore me forever."
"Not forever, it's already senior year." She retorts coldly, turning her body toward Wanda, one arm resting on the counter. The brunette swallows dryly, but the redhead smiles wickedly, the other hand reaching out to push the strands of brown hair behind the smaller girl's shoulder. "What do you want from me, Maximoff? A chance to stab my back, too?"
Wanda tenses her jaw, her eyes burning. "Please don't be like this." She pleads and takes on courage. "I miss you, you know. And Eve... Please just say something."
Jean licks her lips and tucks a strand of hair behind Wanda's ear before lowering her hands. She looks her in the eyes.
"Next time, try to use less eyeliner. You're looking like a slut." She declares, turning away before Wanda can really process what was said to her.
She feels her throat tighten with the urge to start crying and takes a deep breath. And then she feels a presence behind her.
"Very nice friend you have." Ironizes an unknown voice. Wanda turns around and is surprised by a slightly familiar face. 
You smile and stare back at her. "Did you know that girls who call others girls sluts are statically more likely to get chlamydia?"
Wanda frowns slightly. "Really?"
You grin "No, but it would be fun karma." You say, and it is her turn to chuckle. You then extend your hand to her. "I'm Y/N, we're in the same Literature class."
"Oh, that's right. The new girl." Wanda murmurs finally realizing where she recognizes the face from. "I'm Wanda."
"I know." You retort biting back a smile and when she blinks curiously, you half-heartedly clarify, "Your brother, Pietro, right? He's been very considerate of the new students, even the ones who aren't freshmen. He pointed you out in the courtyard once."
Wanda nods, a little out of frame. She wasn't very good at socializing, especially with those she thought were kind of attractive.
You noticed her distance and cleared your throat. "Just for the record, Wanda, and well, I'm no makeup expert but..." You extended your hand again, this time to her face, wiping with the tip of your finger a bit of eyeliner smeared by the tear she let fall. "I wouldn't say you look slutly, I'd say you look quite beautiful."
You compliment, and Wanda feels a shiver spread through her body. So surprised by her own reaction, she can barely smile back when you do so in farewell, leaving the bar.
She decides to run to the bathroom and check her makeup even though her legs are still shaking a little.
The sound of the party is muffled inside, and Wanda sighs as she sees her own reflection. She wants to believe what you said, but since Jean treated her like that, it's been a little difficult. 
With a wet piece of paper, she carefully removes the eyeliner, and just as she is finishing, she hears a soft cry coming from one of the booths.
Worried, Wanda throws the paper in the trash and follows the sound. "Hello?" she needs to call out another two times for the girl to sniffle and answer.
"Hey."
"Sorry to bother you, but are you okay?" It's kind of a silly question to ask someone who is crying in the bathroom, but it's the best that Wanda handles. And the girl seems to enjoy the kindness.
"Yeah, just... it's stupid." She replies in a small voice.
"Can you open the door for me for a minute?" There is a pause, but the keyhole unlocks and the girl pushes the door slightly. Wanda offers her an understanding expression and pulls her by the hand. "Come, I can help with the smudged makeup." The girl agrees to be led out of the booth, to the sinks. "I'm Wanda, by the way."
"I know, your brother is pretty popular." Mumbles the other one sniffling softly. Wanda smiles, "I'm Yelena. Can you call someone for me? The team captain?"
"Oh, sure." Wanda assures, kind of getting the impression that the girl is kicking her out, kind of uncomfortable with the attention.
She leaves Yelena and heads back to the party, spending a good ten minutes asking about this team captain to the people around - most of them too drunk to know - until finally one of the third-year girls points to a tall boy at the back of the club. "The only captain I know is Steve Rogers, sweetie. That pretty boy over there."
Wanda approached him in a circle of people, it was as uncomfortable as she expected. Steve, at least, seemed like a nice guy and followed her with some concern about that girl crying in the bathroom.
But when Wanda returned, Yelena was not alone. Another blonde girl was finishing helping her with her make-up.
"[...] you and Kate need to stop this push and pull, that's what I think." Advised the stranger. Yelena sighed.
"She left me crying in a bathroom, I'll never speak to her again."
"Come on Yelena..."
"Sorry." Wanda interrupts the interaction with Steve trailing behind her. "I brought your friend, Yelena. The team captain."
The two look at her as if she is crazy. Yelena points to the other, "This is my friend. Carol Danvers, captain of the basketball team."
Steve nods. "What's up, Carol?" he greeted her with a smile half confused by the whole thing. 
"Oh, I didn't know we had more than one...team." Wanda mumbles clumsily, and Yelena sighs half impatiently.
"Look, thanks anyway, it's the thought that counts. But we were in the middle of a conversation here..."
"God, you're so rude when you're mad at Kate." Carol complains. "Come on, Natasha was looking for you. Thanks again, sweetie." The blonde pulls her friend out of the bathroom, and Wanda decides she has had enough for the night.
She makes her way out of the bar, but on the street, she realizes that Steve Rogers has followed her the whole way.
"Hey, sorry, are you Jarvis Stark's girlfriend?" He asks and she takes her time assimilating her boyfriend's real name instead of the nickname everyone has used since elementary school. 
"Yeah, why?"
Steve smiles awkwardly. "Any chance you have his brother's number?"
Wanda has a good few seconds of pure surprise before muttering that she really wasn't talking to Tony. The blond gets a little disappointed but forces a smile. 
"Sorry, see you at school." She babbles, honestly tired from this night.
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laylarevengers · 5 months
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dress. manjiro sano x fem! reader. series. angst —> happy ending. tomen —> bonten.
part one.
after a prolonged period of silence, sanzu’s voice broke the stillness. you were sitting beside him in the front seat, unwilling to take the initiative of sitting in the back. sanzu had a reputation for being batshit crazy, but you believed he wouldn't harm you. he was fiercely loyal to mikey and, surprisingly, he seemed to find your presence bearable. as he spoke, asking, "how have you been?" you couldn't help but feel a mix of apprehension and gratitude for his relative calmness.
as you feel the breeze from the open window, you turn your gaze towards Sanzu, the person who would usually be the greatest threat to be around is making you feel comfortable. a faint chuckle escapes your lips as you speak, "i’m no idiot, sanzu. i know it‘s your job to keep tabs on me." you lower your hand and observe him closely. various things are foreign about him now. he is not covering his scars as he had back then, and his hair is finally cut in a shape you had been urging him to adopt ever since you handed him water when you first met him back in the day.
“well, i wasn’t really trying to hide it. don’t tell mikey.”
“i never thought you’d disobey his orders.”
sanzu firmly denied any wrongdoing as he skillfully maneuvered his car into a parking spot. "technically, i didn't do anything wrong," he insisted, flashing you a reassuring crazy-like smile before stepping out of the car and opening the door for you. as you emerged from the car, your eyes were immediately drawn to the imposing building that towered over you. from the outside, it looked like the headquarters of a reputable company, but as you peered through the windows, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. inside, the employees looked like mundane office workers, but you couldn't shake off the nagging suspicion that they might not be aware of their involvement in a crime organisation. the thought crossed your mind that even stepping into this building might have solemn legal consequences, but it was too late to worry about that now.
after a long walk through a maze of elevators and doors, you finally reached the room where ran haitani lay on a bed, writhing in pain. as a doctor, you couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency to alleviate his suffering. as soon as you entered the room, you immediately noticed ran’s discomfort and urged him to remove his shirt to examine his injury, forgetting and ignoring who he is.
as a specialist in treating severe injuries such as gunshots and stab wounds, you've encountered your fair share of patients with such wounds. however, what truly unsettled you this time wasn't the gunshot wound itself. It was the unsettling realization that if haitani had been left to suffer from a bullet wound without immediate medical attention, it sparked a deep fear within you. the thought that he may have endured such pain without seeking help sent shivers down your spine.
the reaction from you was absolutely dreadful, and there was an immediate sense of urgency as you examined the wound more closely. this was no ordinary gunshot; it was a deliberate act of revenge. "the hell is with that reaction?" you hadn't even realized that there were other people in the room. rin haitani, who had been standing beside sanzu, koko and kakucho, spoke up with a concerned and puzzled expression on his face. despite his worry and confusion, you carried on with your task, explaining the situation to him.
as fury consumed them all, you remained completely absorbed in rectifying this chaos and ensuring the man lying on the bed would survive, oblivious to their words. it took an arduous three hours to safeguard ran from a severe cardiac arrest and halt the venom's deadly progression. finally, you found solace outside the room, in a cozy living space, where you could finally take a much-needed breath after the relentless ordeal of the past three hours.
as rin emerged from the room, it was evident that he was struggling to hold back his tears. without even realizing it, you found yourself speaking words of comfort, your tone gentle and compassionate. it was almost surreal to be offering reassurance to someone who could potentially be a dangerous individual. however, you pressed on, mindful of the presence of others around you. "i arrived in time to prevent any major complications. he will experience a severe fever for approximately a month, which will undoubtedly be tedious. but it's certainly a preferable outcome, wouldn't you agree?"
"sanzu, why are you acquainted with a fallen fucking angel like her? you’re such a dog in comparison," rin teased, finding solace in your words. surprisingly, sanzu responded, "don’t you dare lay your eyes on the boss' girl, haitani." the room filled with a chorus of confused "what's" and "huh's," prompting me to urgently silence them and plead for everyone to let ran rest.
“i am leaving,” you speak directly towards sanzu. “no, no, no, come on. let me get you something to eat or drink as a thank you.” you could not tell if rin was being sarcastic or not, but when you glanced at sanzu for reassurance, he nodded and then you found yourself having dinner with the bonten executives.
2/?
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Happy New Years! (My Call of Duty bbs <3)
A/N: Happy New Years, Guys! I may have rushed on this so I am sorry if I made any spelling mistakes. I also included a little surprise non-MW2 character because he's from call of duty and I love him so much.
I wish you all a happy new years and a pleasant 2023❤
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Alejandro
Invites friends over for a food spread and drink
Insists you share a fiery kiss at midnight, it's good luck
Follow midnights he will stay up to the insane hours of the morning
I'm talking five am
Naturally, he will suffer a horrendous hangover
Gaz
So throwing this out there first for anyone outside of the UK
Every year in London there is a massive countdown
Crowds gather and it gets broadcast on TV, especially the post midnight fireworks show
Kyle will take you to see that!
You get to enjoy the music and the fireworks display
If you get too cold he'll take you to a nearby bar where you can enjoy the rest of the night
Ghost
He doesn't enjoy fireworks or crowds so don't ask him to go to any displays
I always see him living on the edge of a village or somewhere remote so New Years will just be you and him
But that's perfect for him
Nothing feels better then sharing a drink with you and watching the countdown
He doesn't make resolutions but he always makes the same promise to you
That he'll spend next New Year with you
Price
He'll take you to his local pub
He knows the lads in there and he feels comfy there
Sits in a booth with a beer and cigar just talking to you
When the New Year's countdown comes on the screen he'll sit you next to him and hold your hand just smiling
The hours following the new years involve a lot of drinking and off key singing with the lads in the pub
Bonus: Primis Edward Richtofen
This poor man doesn't know what time it is so he doesn't know they date
If you told him that it is New Year's Eve in whatever dimension you two are in he'd be confused as to why you care
But he will admit it has been a long time since he allowed himself to celebrate anything
And so he spends some time to find any type of alcohol, hopefully wine but anything will do
He'll find a clock, sit with you away from the rest of the group
And he'll spend new years with you
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gingiesworld · 6 months
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Meet Me Underneath The Tree
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Leigh Shaw x GN! Reader
Warnings: Fluff
Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @lizzieislife94x (if you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)
18+ MINORS DNI
Y/N and Leigh had been going strong for two years, two years since the fling between herself and Danny ended. Two years since she cut all ties with her dead husband’s family. Needing a new start herself, she found something in the new instructor her mom hired for Beautiful Beast. Y/N was a self defense instructor, helping the women who had paid to be taught self defense, Leigh had also noticed how smooth their voice was as they spoke. Considering what they taught, they had a gentle nature about them, and Leigh had experienced that for the two years of their relationship, even through the arguments that she had started, they remained by her side.
“So, you’re finally popping the question?” Amy asked Y/N as Leigh was teaching her class.
“Yeah.” They answered, a nervous smile on their face. “I know she has suffered a lot, but I want to be there for her, show her that she will always have something to breathe for.”
“She’s so lucky.” Jules groaned as she handed the ring back to Y/N. “So, what’s your big plan?” Y/N explained their plan to them, wanting to make the moment as special as possible. Soon enough cutting the conversation short when Leigh stepped out of the studio.
“What am I interrupting?” She questioned with a raised brow as she dried the sweat from herself.
“Nothing.” Jules answered quickly.
“Jules was just telling us what her plans are with Tommy.” Amy answered her confidently. “The two of them have decided to grace us with their presence this christmas.” Leigh beamed at her sister.
“That’s amazing.” She wrapped her arm around her shoulder. “It was too quiet last year without you.” Everyone chuckled as Jules sent Amy a glare.
Y/N had remained a nervous wreck leading up to Christmas eve. They had their doubts, what if she says no? What will happen to their relationship? But Leigh never failed to make them see that they are just as important to her as she is to them.
“Mom wants my help with the decorations.” Leigh told Y/N as she grabbed her coat. “She said something about Jules and Tommy coming around tonight and celebrating.”
“Ok.” Y/N nodded with a smile.
“I’ll be back in time for our little tradition.” She told them as she pressed a kiss to their lips. Y/N sighed as the door closed behind her, looking at the ring one last time before they made their own preparations.
“So, how is it with you and Y/N?” Amy asked her as the two prepared the food for Christmas dinner.
“It’s great.” Leigh answered her unsurely. “But I can’t help but feel as though they are pulling away from me.”
“How so?” Amy pressed on as Leigh wiped her hands on the towel.
“They’ve been distant with me.” She sighed as she rubbed her brow. “Maybe I’m just too much, my mood swings and outbursts are too much for them.”
“I don’t think that is the case.” Amy assured her as Leigh looked at the time. “I can see how they look at you Leigh, you are their whole world.”
“I just, I can’t shake this feeling like it may be the end.” She whispered shakily. “I don’t want this to be the end because I am so in love with them that it physically hurts me being away from them.”
“Tell them.” Amy told her. “Let them know everything you’re feeling.” Leigh nodded as she received a text from Y/N.
Meet me underneath the tree.
“I have to go.” Leigh sighed as she grabbed her coat, heading towards the little spot that had become theirs over the two year period. Her heart beat in her chest as she spotted Y/N in the distance, just staring out into space. “Y/N.” She breathed out, gaining their attention, watching as they took a shaky breath.
“Hi.” They smiled at her before continuing. “I honestly had a whole other plan for this, but then I figured here would be a better place.”
“No.” Leigh spat out, taking Y/N by surprise. “I am not letting you end what we have!” Y/N was shocked by the words coming from Leigh’s mouth. “We have worked too damn hard to be where we are now and I don’t want to throw that away because I love you. I love you so damn much and I can’t. I won’t lose you or what we have.” She closed her eyes as she took a deep breath, opening them to see Y/N down on one knee, holding a ring in their hands.
“Leigh, I never, ever want to lose you.” They started as Leigh took a shaky breath. “I guess maybe my nerves these past few weeks haven’t helped either of us.” They chuckled lightly. “I have known for a while now that my future is meant to be spent by your side, living each day together, maybe starting a family one day, but I know I need you in my life Leigh. I love you with every fiber of my being and I will love more and more with each passing moment. So, will you marry me?”
“Yes.” She whispered as her tears flowed freely, smiling as Y/N had put the ring on her finger, noticing her wedding ring and engagement ring were no longer on her finger from her previous marriage.
“Your rings?” They questioned as she cupped their face.
“I haven’t worn them for months.” Leigh told them. “I guess I felt ready to let go of Matt and focus on the life I will have with you.” They smiled before kissing her softly, holding her close as the kiss broke, pressing their foreheads together, ready to live for their future together.
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masterchef901 · 10 months
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Some rampant Freckle theorizing (Idk how confirmed this is but we roll it (lackadaisy spoilers))
I was thinking about Freckle and the theory/general idea that he killed or hurt his dad and Rocky took the blame for it, and the more I think about it the more it explains a ton of Freckle's character.
Like, we'd have the obvious and immediate: he follows Rocky and does whatever he asks without question, because Freckle feels like he owes him a debt, one worth killing for. Not to mention, we have some more rationale behind Freckle's habit of trying to fix things when stressed, and his original intentions of becoming a cop, both of which may represent a sort of penance in his mind. Try to make things better to make up for how he made them worse. Get dangerous criminals off the street, to make up for the fact that he feels he is one.
But then we get a bit more in the details of things:
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"Remember to always lie" lands a lot heavier in this paradigm, doesn't it?
But the way the other letters are framed right there with him make me think they're a part of the trauma too. That make me think that every single one of these weighs on him, makes him think: "Rocky's struggling out there because of me"
"He's suffering because I lied"
"I'm doing this to him"
"I ruined his life too"
and yet, at the same time,
"If I tell anyone then Rocky suffered for nothing"
And that would absolutely eat at someone. Eat at them enough that a particularly inflammatory letter would leave them curled up and broken in their room marinating amongst years of other accumulated pain.
And bearing this view of his past in mind, I speculate a bit on his defining trait in the present:
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The oft-accepted explanation is that he's just a "natural killer", or that these acts of violence are in some way a release of other, possibly unrelated pent-up stress and anxiety. But bear with me a moment, and consider another angle:
You're a murderer. You've spent years lying about it. You threw your cousin under the bus. You lied to your mother. You're a murderer and you can never forget it. You always lie. You have to remember to always lie about being a murderer.
And then you kill someone again.
And this time it's in front of plenty of witnesses, it's to protect someone and most importantly: it isn't a secret to these people.
I posit that in this moment, Calvin "Freckle" McMurray is feeling honest with himself for the first time in years. He has internalized the feeling that he's a murderer, and now he gets to wear that, and be "himself", for what he feels that is, and he doesn't have to hide. He doesn't have to hide that he's a murderer anymore. In the most fucked-up possible way, Freckle is owning who he is. Maybe it's a stretch, but I think what we're seeing is the euphoria of relief, from a particularly twisted confession.
The next time we see him actually shooting again...
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There's still some of that derangement, but it also seems to me that Rocky's doing most of the laughing. And maybe it's the involuntary mud-bath he takes after this panel, but...
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That mania sure faded quick this time. Even though he's digging for it, trying to find it, the euphoria just isn't coming the way it did just a couple canonical days ago, and I think it's because there's nothing more to get from it.
The killing confession's been given, and there's no more relief to be found in trying to let himself be a killer. Now it's just... more bloodshed.
At this point, we've caught up pretty much completely to our protagonists in the story. From here, we move from the 'bear with me but' kind of speculation to just totally rampant guesswork. But what could this mean for our adorable gunman's future?
Well for starters, I think we'll see his work quality start to take a dip once he realizes he doesn't actually love it.
And for seconds, it means that he's probably not done riding the guilt train either. If anything, he might start working out his confusion, realizing just how fucked everything in his life is. Might even begin to resent Rocky for it.
And perhaps most interestingly in my mind is how this poor kid's emotional state is going to interact with his relationship with Ivy. After all, I feel like the very nature of the relationship is still settling, and we don't really have a clear view of how invested its members are in it. Maybe Ivy's just in it for some fun and Freckle's along for the ride and eventually the ride'll end and that'll be that. But, uh, something about the laws that govern narrative existence makes me think that this will perhaps not be the case.
Because suppose that Freckle starts feeling it more deeply. He might easily see his first true confidant in Ivy - someone who he owes no debt, who he's under no obligation to lie to, and who seems both aware of and okay with his homicidal tendencies. He could really come to lean on her a lot as he develops and navigates his trauma. And this leads to some outcomes:
If Ivy's willing to reciprocate that trust and vulnerability, we get treated to some absolutely delectable hurt-comfort.
If she isn't, she might back off, even sever things entirely as she's not used to dealing with this kind of baggage in a partner. Depending on how in-love Freckle's feeling at this point in this timeline, the sudden pain and isolation on top of his freshly re-opened trauma might be enough to send him into a complete mental break in the worst case.
And either way, and no matter which way anything goes, we get some absolutely killer drama.
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pacific-coast-hockey · 2 months
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Georgi Romanov: A Brief Introduction*
*bc there is not a lot of information about him in English.
Good evening to the greater Sharkudablr community, it has come to my attention on the eve of Georgi Romanov's Possible First NHL Regular Season Start that not all of you know about Georgi Romanov or appreciate him appropriately. This is insane to me as someone who spends approximately 40% of my waking hours thinking about Georgi, but then I realized that as a person with a blog, I can just say stuff to fix that.
This is Georgi Romanov:
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He's not exploding you with his brain, he's actually exploding his teammates with his brain, you're just standing there.
This is also Georgi Romanov:
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Goaltender Interference with the Barracuda is when Your Goaltender Interferes With You Beating The Shit Out Of Kole Lind 😌
This is ALSO Georgi Romanov:
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At beginning of the season, sadly he got a haircut so he looks less like the kind of beautiful Eastern Orthodox saint you'd find in a stained glass window who was like the patron saint of taking poppers at Ultra Europe. Who said that.
Georgi Romanov is so important to me. He was a frequent flyer on the Wichita Express this season which makes it all the more joyful that he made a) to the NHL, and b) saved...uh...a couple of...shots against Edmonton. Fuck Edmonton all my homies hate Edmonton. Anyway, the Cuda signed him this summer thinking they were getting a lil buddy for Beck Warm (in the ECHL) and then he proceeded to kick ass at the AHL level and matched or outplayed Chrona and Mäkiniemi every step of the way and then Jmac way overplayed him and he did amazing anyway. Then I got to experience Jmac and GMJW putting him on the Wichita Midnight Rider bc the Sharks had uh really been banking on Chrona and Mäkiniemi for their goalie prospect pipeline and were NOT expecting some 23 year old kid who had played ONE single KHL game to actually be very very very very good, but like Jmac is incapable of spreading starts evenly between all three goalies, so Georgi had to be removed from the premises.
But he is very very very very good. Even though he suffered severe Strauss Mann-ification, he has risen to the challenge again and again! When Chrona got called up to the Sharks and then Mäkiniemi went down with mono, he basically got called up full-time to be the third goalie in the Cuda and he has been killing it ever since.
Here is an interview SJHN did with him at the beginning of the season, by the only man I trust on this bitch of earth, Nikita Sokolov. It's a good article, here are some fun tidbits:
Had to learn to tie a tie when he came to North America because in his Russian team (TIER 2 RUSSIAN LEAGUE!!) he just wore tracksuits
Stayed in Knyzhov's house for a month before signing a lease, which doesn't help the "Nikolai Knyzhov is the eldest daughter of the Barracuda" allegations but is so so funny to me too
The mattress company never delivered his mattress and he didn't speak enough English to resolve this, so he had to get his teammates and agent to help him out. I love thinking about Nikita Okhotiuk arguing with a mattress company. I think I would just give him a free mattress at that point.
Bought a car here with a loan to build credit bc him and his wife "need to think about the future. We want to be here for a long time.” 🥺🥺🥺
Here are some facts about Georgi from k 18minutemajor, when I asked if they had any fun facts:
Romanizes his name as Romanoff on instagram
It appears his nickname is Gosha!
Cuda fans all love him very much 😭
They also did amazing art of the greatest hits of Situations Happening To Georgi which I cannot overstate has crossed this man from give Georgi a knife to give Georgi several hand grenades. Please look at it and appreciate it and click on the links bc Georgi has suffered so much and still he remains so beautiful and so deadly.
Here are some facts about Georgi that you may only know if you attend games regularly or watch games on AHLtv:
He habitually bangs his stick on the ice when he gets pissed at his team. Or possibly encouraging them but usually it's when defense is falling apart and shots are like 45 to 30 Firebirds/Cuda, he starts slamming his stick against the ice like...a warning...a reminder...he's coming for ALL your motherfuckers.
Cuda stick the back up goalies in the tunnel and MOST of our goalies are so normal and just sit a couple feet back from the glass and hang out. NOT Georgi. Georgi has Emi the athletic trainer drag his chair right up to the glass and then he crosses his arms on the lip of the board and then he rests his head on his gloves and watches the game with his face pressed against the glass.
When we were rocking a line up with Nikita Okhotiuk for a few brief beautiful weeks, I very much watched Georgi on at least one occasion go up to Okhotiuk during a stoppage and take his water bottle from his hands. MY water bottle. And Nikita just let him.
Often the Cuda lose at home. Often the Cuda are trying to get the fuck off the ice as fast as possible. OFTEN Georgi will do a little one man salute of the arena with his stick while the rest of the team is streaming off the ice. Guys I think he really likes us :(
Cuda Goalie vibes this year were INSANE like I do not even know how to explain what was going on there without going full Pepe Silva BUT by the end of the year, things seem to have um. Well. I once watched Mäkiniemi (with mono!!) run -- run!!! -- down the stairs from the scratches box to go stand by Chrona in the tunnel to watch Georgi face a shoot out and when they lost, both of them waited for him to get off the ice. Guys I think they really like each other :(
Signed for one more year which I guess you could look up on CapFriendly, but EYE didn't know that until this week and I spent no joke like the entire season barfing with anxiety that we don't bring him back. But NO. Provided GMMG doesn't give me a 15th or 16th reason, we have ONE MORE YEAR OF GEORGI 🥳🥳 and will maybe (probably) be rocking a Chrona/Romanov tandem. Which is so beautiful to me as an Employee Appreciator.
Also here's some photos of Chrona and Georgi hugging:
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It's the way Goosh was waiting for a hug and gave up for me lol
In conclusion: Georgi Romanov is so important and Sharkudablr needs to love him So Much. Thank you for listening 😌
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